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Jhirelia refuses to Saarifioe to the G-ods. 












OMPANY^^ 


AURELIA; 

S' OR, 

THE JEWS OF CAPENA-GATE. 



BY 


M. A. QUINTON, Advocate, 

Late Batonnier, and Member of the Academy of Sainte- Croix. 


FREELY TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH 

By Pi F. DE GOURNAY. 


7 



BALTIMORE: 

KELLY, PIET & CO., Publishers, 


174 Baltimore Street. 

1870. 




LETTER ADDRESSED TO THE AUTHOR. 


iv. 

rect description of those Roman customs in which questions of law 
held such an important place. You have made a most happy use 
of these discoveries, so far at least as I can judge from a cursory 
oxamination of your first volume, in an animated narrative replete 
with incidents and written with much 'spirit and talent. 

I have, therefore, good reason to hope, dear sir and diocesan, that 
your work will meet with the most legitimate success. It will be 
a, new honor to you and to our Academy of Ste Croix. 

Let me once more tender you my best thanks and congratulations. 

You will please accept, very dear sir and diocesan, my most 
■devoted regards in Our Lord. 

FELIX, Bishop of Orleans. 





PREFACE. 


The praise received by Mr. Quinton’s Aurelia from the French 
critics, and, especially, the commendation with which it was hon- 
ored by such a high authority as the illustrious Bishop of Orleans, 
•encourage the hope that a translation of this remarkable work 
will be favorably received by the American public. 

The author’s object has been to remove the veil which conceals 
those early times of the Christian Church, when Peter and Paul 
preached the Gospel in the capital of the pagan world destined to 
become the capital and eternal seat of the Church of the true God. 
Mr. Quinton, in seeking for the immediate consequences of that 
public profession of faith and the results that followed the death 
of the two apostles, did not consult the ecclesiastical writers who 
came long after those events had taken place, but sought his facts 
in the old heathen authors who were the contempories of the his- 
torical characters he had selected as the heroes of his drama. The 
facts connected with the extraordinary spread of Christianity in all 
classes of the Roman empire, the principal events of this narrative, 
and the life-like description of the customs of ancient Rome, are 
drawn from the writing of Tacitus, Suetonius, Dion Cassius, Seneca, 
Juvenal, Martial, and others. 

Whilst pursuing the study of the contrast presented by the 
harsh Roman civilization and the softening influence of dawning 
Christianity, the learned French lawyer made the discovery of facts 
hitherto overlooked., which after being connected formed an un- 
broken chain of evidence. Uncertainty no longer exists, and after 
showing us the moral effect of Christianity upon Roman intitutions 
and Roman society, he proves important facts of peculiar interest. 
Thus we see the first Christian hospital founded by Fla via Domitilla, 
the niece of the Emperor Domitian, in her own house and not far 

(V.) 


vi. 


PREFACE. 


g 

from the imperial palace; the same holy woman, having been 
exiled by her uncle, receives the veil from the hands of St. Clemens, 
the fourth successor of St. Peter, and proceeds to the island of Pontia, 
where she founds the first St. Clemens consecrates, in 

what has since been styled the catacombs, the first Christian bury- 
ing ground, on the occasion of the death of the octogenarian Petro- 
nilla, the daughter of Peter, Prince of the Apostles! 

Apart from the “historical treasures” discovered by the author, 
and for which he was warmly congratulated by Mgr. Dupanloup, 
Aurelia has all the merit of a highly dramatic narrative. Whilst, 
therefore, this work commends itself to the scholar, it is hoped that 
lovers of wholesome light literature will find it as entertaining as 
most of the works of fiction of the day. 

Baltimore, October, 1869. 


Although no note references are given in the book, the notes to 
Aurelia are of such historic interest and value, that the publishers 
have concluded to add them as an appendix to the work, for the 
benefit of those readers who seek something more than mere enter- 
tainment. The number of the prige and a proper heading to recall 
the subject to mind have been given with each note. 




TABLE OF CONTENTS. 


PART FIRST — The Informer. 

CHAPTEH. PiQ* 

1. Rome in the Year of Grace 91 1 

II. An Informer at Work 3 

III. Ward and Guardian...., 14 

IV. A Slave-market 21 

V. First Lights 28 

VI. Paul and Seneca 31 

YII. Light Penetrating Chaos 37 


PART SECOND— The Slave. 

I. Hymeneal Disappointments of a Vespillo 46 

II. The Crypt of Libitina’s Woods 58 

III. Christian Espousals 68 

IV. Parmenon’s Register 73 

V. A Legal Consultation 80 

VI. How in Rome a Father could sell his Daughter 89 

VII. The Slave-dealer as a Lawyer 96 

VIII. A Chapter on Roman Law. 105 

IX. Before the Pretor.... 109 

X. The Tribunal of the Recuperators 115 

XI. Tortures and Constancy 124 

XII. The Omen-tree 132 

XIII. The Daughter of the Csesars and the Daughter of the 

I* People 144 

{vii) 


Viii. TABLE OF CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER. PAGE.. 

XIV. The Christian Priest and the Pagan Virgin 151 

XV. Phfedria 158 


PART THIRD— The Vestal. 

I. Before the Storm 169 

5 II. Domitian 175 

1 III. The Luminous Gallery 181 

! IV. Minerva's Statue 198 

V. The Sons of David 201 

VI. The Mysteries of the Temple of Isis 212 

VII. The Archigallus Apollo 217 

VIII. Illusions of a Conspirator 223 

IX. The Funeral of a Christian Virgin 231 

X. Wealthy, Beautiful, Great— and Unhappy 241 

XI. Aurelia Comments on St. Paul 249 

XII. The Atrium-regiiim 254 

XIII. Cornelia’s Anxieties 259 

XIV. History of a Vestal 265 

XV. Clemens Fulfills the Engagements of Gurges 27T 

XVI. The Storm Gathering 283 

XVII. The Saturnalia 288 

XVIII. The Den of Woes 299 

XIX. Clemens Calls on Gurges 30& 

XX. The Execution 31(j 

XXL The Deliverance 322 

XXII. Gurges Treats of the Empire 331 

XXIII. The Clouds Gathering 34.0 

XXIV. The Death of a Tyrant — Epilogue 344 



AURELIA^ 

OR, 

THE JEWS OF CAPEJNTA GATE. 


Part First — The Informer. 


CHAPTER I. 

ROME IN THE YEAR OF GRACE NINETY-ONE. 

I N the year 842 of its foundation, a period which corresponds 
with the year 91 of the Christian era — Rome already 
groaned under the implacable and sanguinary tyranny of the 
Emperor Domitian. 

Doubtless, the Roman people,, formerly so happy and so 
free, must have repented bitterly that it had given unto 
itself masters in the person of its Cmsars ; for, to the peace- 
ful and mild reign of Augustus, had succeeded, without 
interruption, those of the stern and taciturn Tiberius, of 
Caligula, the madman, of the imbecile Claudius, and of the 
infamous and cruel Nero ; then those of Galba, Othonus and 
Vitellius. In other words, during fifty-five years, every 
possible humiliation and servitude had been inflicted upon 
the pride of the conquerors of the world; they had been 
made to suffer all sorts of misfortunes, of sanguinary excesses, 
of unparalleled disorders and fearful seditions ; until terror 
and anguish had become the habitual, daily conditions of 
their life. 

It is true that the accession to the Imperial throne, of 


•2 


AURELIA; OR, 


Vespasian and his eldest son, Titus, had been a truce to these 
public desolations; but this blissful interregnum of twelve 
years had flown with the rapidity of happy dreams ; and 
clouds as threatening and gloomy as those which had over- 
shadowed the worst days of suffering, were gathering on the 
horizon since Domitian succeeding his brother, so justly 
surnamed the delight of manJcind, had ascended to the 
throne. 

At the time our story commences, many public and private 
catastrophes, many sentences of banishment against the most 
illustrious individuals, many murders perpetrated openly or 
secretly, had marked the ten years already elapsed of Domi- 
tian’ s reign, and filled Rome with a terror which prostrated 
the most manly courage. 

Nevertheless, in this year 842, Rome enjoyed, apparently 
at least, a moment of quiet and some little respite from its 
sufferings. 

Not that the Emperor Domitian had modified his usual 
instinctive cruelty, or that he had endeavored to conciliate 
some sympathy by putting a stop to his series of crimes ; but, 
since several months he had left Rome, to direct personally 
the war which his generals had waged without success against 
Decebalus, King of the Dacians. He intended also seizing 
this opportunity to take revenge on the Quadi and Marco- 
mani, tribes of Germany, and neighbors of the Daci, who, 
during this long war, commenced in the year 837 (A. D. 86), 
had not shown themselves the faithful allies of the Emperor, 
nor observed the conditions of their old treaties with the 
Roman people. 

However, if temporarily, the weight of Domitian’s iron 
hand was not felt upon the immense city, the situation was 
neither better nor more encouraging. The danger was less 
actual and seemed less pressing ; but it remained suspended 
over the heads of the people ; and many, alarmed at what 
they saw around them, believed it still more fearful because 
not immediate. 

The Emperor had left Rome filled with the ministers of 
his tyranny, and the habitual agents of his fury. A crowd 
of informers vied in skillfulness and audacity, to feed the 
equally insatiable hate and cupidity of the master of the 
world. 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


3 


These shameful agents of imperial tyranny, full of that 
zeal which servile obsequiousness for the master awakens in 
vile natures, had divided the city between them, and prowled 
incessantly in the streets, hunting up the slightest indications, 
upon which they might build their sinister accusations, 
scrutinizing the most natural acts with the activity and 
intelligence of those indefatigable hounds which are set upon 
the traces of forest beasts. 

No detail, however minute, could escape their anxious 
investigations; no suspicion, however faint and fleeting, was 
treated with indifference by them; the dwellings the most 
completely veiled in obscurity, became transparent and could 
conceal no secret from them. One might have thought that 
they penetrated into consciences and hearts, so well did their 
sagacity read the most hidden thoughts ; but it was to sup- 
press the least aspiration to liberty, and, in the forcible 
language of Tacitus, *‘ to keep a record of every tear and 
every sigh. ” 


CHAPTER II. 

AN INFORMER AT WORK. 

O N the eve of the Ides of the month of Julius, (14th of 
July) in this same year, 842, (A. D. 91), the sun-dials in 
the Forum indicated the sixth hour of the day, (noon), when 
a man, coming out of the basilica Julia, tarried a while under 
its peristyle already filled with a compact and tumultuous 
crowd. 

The tribunal of the Recuperators was assembled by extra- 
ordinary, in this place where the Centum viri usually held 
their sittings, and what caused this great affluence of people, 
was that a very important suit, bearing on a State-question, 
had just been decided, after several sessions, during which the 
two most celebrated lawyers of the time had participated in 
the passionate debates. 

The citizen, whose appearance under the peristyle, we_have 


4 


AURELIA; OR, 


mentioned, was a man of about fifty years. His radiant 
features, the triumphant looks he cast upon the crowd, which 
however seemed to avoid him with mingled terror and 
contempt, and from which threatening voices had saluted him 
with curses, would have sufficiently indicated that he was 
interested in the contestation, even though his dress had not 
revealed the active part he had taken in it. 

He was clad in the toga of mourning usually worn by 
orators desirous of feigning distress and of inspiring compas- 
»ion ; and, by an extraordinary singularity, had completed 
this carefully studied, theatrical exhibition of desolation, by 
covering half of his face with a wide bandage. 

Every minor detail had been made to harmonize, and the 
enormous bundle of papyrus leaves — probably documents 
connected with the suit just decided — ^which this gloomy 
personage held under his arm, were tied with strings as black 
as his toga. 

He took off the bandage which, out of the court, had no 
longer any meaning, and concealed it in the folds of his wide 
garment. The hostile demonstrations of the people began to 
cause him some uneasiness, and he was already attempting to 
wend his way through the dense crowd, when deep groans, 
mingled with fearful imprecations, resounded near him. 

These groans proceeded from the lips of an old man, whose 
appearance and demeanor denoted the wildest despair. This 
unfortunate being, like the man with the bandage and black 
toga, was leaving the interior of the basilica ; but he came 
out rending his wretched garments, tearing his ash-cov- 
ered white locks, and striking his breast. It was evident 
that the decision of the tribunal had struck at his dearest 
interests. 

He was accompanied by his defender, a younger man, whose 
noble and grave features wore an expression of sadness. The 
lawyer sustained the tottering steps of his unhappy client, and 
endeavored to soothe him with the most affectionate solicitude ; 
but his efforts were unavailing to soften this wild grief; the 
old man anon broke out in noisy lamentations, calling upon 
the bystanders to bear witness to the injustice of men and the 
rigor of the gods. 

The theatrical orator, first mentioned, would have been 
glad to make his way out, and avoid meeting this old man 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


6 


whose sight seemed to disturb him considerably ; but the 
crowd was too compact. BaiSled in his attempt, he made up 
his mind, resolutely, to approach those he wished so much to 
flee, and this he did, composing his features, with remarkable 
facility, so as to give them the cheerful and kindly expression 
suitable to the occasion. 

“ My dear Pliny,” he exclaimed, grasping the hand of the 
old man’s protector; “allow me to congratulate you, not- 
withstanding your defeat ! Your pleading, yesterday, was 
the finest I have ever heard ! By Apollo ! you have surpassed 
Cicero, your model ! But it is not surprising that you have 
lost your case ; I had consulted the auspices, and had advised 
you that they were favorable to my cause.” 

Then, as Pliny-the-Younger — for it was he who had 
defended and lost the case — withdrew promptly his hand and 
turned away, vouchsafing him no other answer than a look of 
contempt, the brazen-faced individual turned to the old man : 

“Unfortunate Cecilius,” said he, affecting the liveliest 
compassion, “why did you not accept the compromise I 
proposed? You would . . . .” 

He could not finish the sentence. 

An iron grip was upon his throat and clutched it with a 
vigor one would have little suspected in an arm weakened by 
age and a body crushed by sorrow. 

It was the hand of the old man, who, straightening up at 
the first words spoken by his adversary, had sprung at him 
like a tiger, and was shaking him with convulsive violence. 

In an instant, he of the dark toga, breathless, almost choked 
to death, lost his balance and rolled down the marble steps, 
until his career was checked by the pedestal of one of the 
statues of the twelve great-gods that decorated the peristyle 
of the basilica Julia. 

The admiring spectators clapped their hands, and gave 
expression to their delight by hooting, and overwhelming the 
discomfited orator with their gibes and mockeries. 

Pliny-the-Younger, who had not had time to prevent this 
act of vengeance, seized Cecilius by the arm and hurried him 
away. They were soon out of sight. 

Meanwhile, the citizen who had been made to descend so 
unceremoniously the broad steps of the basilica Julia, had 
lumped to his feet with a nimbleness that showed his limbs to 


6 


AURELIA; OR 
' 1 


be unbroken. But if his body was unhurt, his features were 
distorted by indignation and anger. 

“By all the gods of hades and by all the furies, I shall 
take my revenge, cursed old man !” he cried as soon as he was 
on his feet; and after a few minutes’ reflection, he was seen 
to hurry towards a building contiguous to the temple of 
Saturn, which, like the basilica Julia, was situated within the 
limits of the Forum. 

This structure was known as the Tahulariuni of the people. 
It was the place of deposit for public acts and records. 

Having reached the office, the unknown called for the 
certificate of birth of a young girl named Cecilia; and, 
addressing the agent who had hastened to show him the 
document : 

“You will state at the bottom of J:he act,” said he, “that 
by a judgment of the tribunal of Recuperators, rendered this 
day, Cecilia, born of the lawful wedlock of Cecilius Bassa, a 
Roman citizen, and Tarsilla Pacuvia, deceased, is declared to 
be the property of Parmenon, a duly authorized slave-trader, 
she having been mancipated to the said Parmenon, by her 
father Cecilius. Here is a copy of the judgment.” 

And he placed in the hands of the agent a certified document 
with which he had taken care to provide himself before 
leaving the Court room. 

The certificate having been duly entered and verified by 
this strange individual, he remembered probably that he had 
something else to do in the temple of Saturn, for, instead of 
retracing his steps, he entered a secret passage which led 
him to another and much larger office, where a prodigious 
activity reigned. 

He was in the vast counting-room of the State and Imperial 
treasury. 

We will not remain to examine the countenances of the citi- 
zens hurrying to pay their taxes, but will follow our unknown 
who, notwithstanding the avaricious glance cast on the piles 
of gold which the Uhripendes weighed and counted inces- 
santly, tarried not, but singling out a citizen in the busy 
crowd, called him aside to ask him this question ; 

“Well! my dear Palfurius, what is the amount of the 
legacies made to our gracious master, the Emperor Domitian, 
since his departure from Rome? Have you prepared this 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


7 


calculation which I must send to the prince by the next 
courier 

“ Certainly, and the total is important enough. In the 
last six months the wills in favor of the Emperor have pro- 
duced fifteen millions of sestertii.’’ 

‘ ‘ What ! are you not ashamed, Palfurius, to speak of such 
a paltry sum! Well may the divine Domitian congratulate 
you on your zeal 1” 

“But,” exclaimed Palfurius, “there has been little mor- 
tality in Rome, of late, and consequently but a small number 
of wills have been read. Armilatus, with whom I was con- 
versing recently on this subject, thinks that the mildness of 
the weather is the principal cause of this healthy condition ; 
but the hot spell is commencing ; it will bring diseases which 
will enable us to show our devotion to the prince.” 

“You and Armilatus are a pair of fools,” cried the un- 
known, who seemed to care little how Palfurius, evidently a 
man of rank, would like the epithet; “I repeat that this 
amount is insignificant, and it is singular that you should find 
an excuse in the condition of the weather and the scarcity of 
disease. Reflect that the friends of the Emperor Augustus 
bequeathed to him a milliard of sestertii ; that the sestertius 
was then worth much more than it is now, and that, conse- 
quently, you will never attain the fourth part of that sum, if 
you consider fifteen paltry millions of sestertii an important 
result for six months! Are you, perchance, one of those 
who think that Domitian should not be as well treated by 
his friends as was Augustus ?” 

This last remark, made in a significant tone, was so em- 
barrassing, that Palfurius looked down, and could not find an 
answer. 

“But,” resumed the pitiless questioner, “ since you have 
mentioned the name of Armilatus, may I know, at least, 
whether you have obtained the information which you two 
were to procure me concerning Plavius Clemens and his wife 
Flavia Domitilla? Have you ascertained, at last, whether, 
as reported, they have embraced the new superstition ? Fla- 
vius Clemens is immensely wealthy, and if it should be true 
that he has become a Jew, there might be an easy way of 
making up, in part at least, the deficit of which we were 
speaking.” 


8 


AURELIA i OR, 


Thi? question seemed to trouble Palfurius even more than 
tbe previous one ; he replied, however : 

“Flavius Clemens is the Emperor’s cousin and Flavia 
Domitilla is his niece. Their two sons have received from 
our august master the names of Vespasianus and Domitianus, 
because he destines them for the empire. How do you want 
us to pry into the affairs of persons so near connected with 
the prince and to whom he has shown such favor. Look you, 
this is a dangerous matter, and you have not reflected 
sufficiently.” 

“ So,” said the unknown, giving a peculiar emphasis to 
each sentence, “you and Armilatus refuse to undertake it ? 
It does not suit you — consular men as you arc, able to pene- 
trate into the intimacy of another consular, and chosen for 
that reason — it does not suit you to investigate a matter 
which gives uneasiness to the Emperor, and of which he 
wishes to be informed? Very well! We shall find other 
means. But really, dear Palfurius, you are the mere shadow 
of your former self!” 

With this ironical and threatening remark, the unknown 
suddenly left Palfurius Sura, to the latter’s great relief. 

Crossing hurriedly the crowded halls of the temple of 
Saturn, he entered the Forum. It was deserted, for the heat 
had become unbearable, and the citizens had returned to 
their homes to enjoy the customary siesta. 

But our man minded not the burning rays of the sun. He 
was absorbed in his thoughts of hate and revenge. Crossing 
the immense Forum in all its length, he followed the way to 
the Forum of Mars as far as the Batumena gate ; then, turn- 
ing to the left, he entered a broad street, which led him to 
the Flaminius circus. 

To the right is one of the oldest edifices in Rome, the 
Villa puhlica, where the Romans lodged the Ambassadors of 
countries with whom they had no alliance. They were not 
permitted to enter the city proper, (^urhs.') The representa- 
tives of allied nations were introduced into the holy city and 
magnificently entertained in the Groecostasis, a splendid house 
situated in the centre of the Forum. 

Near the Villa pvhlica, the slave-traders occupied shops 
or taverns built between the massive pillars of the porticos. 
The unknown knocked repeatedly at the closed doors of one 


THE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


9 


of these taverns. It was at length opened hy an individual 
of high stature, clad in a many-colored toga. 

This man, whose brutish and insolent countenance bespoke 
a ruffian of the first order, was strangely disfigured. The 
horrible scars with which his face was covered, were evidently 
produced by the application of powerful acids or of the juice 
of venomous plants, so skillfully prepared by the witches of 
that time. 

As he opened the door, this repulsive being rubbed his 
eyes, and yawned so as to distend immoderately his jaws. 
He had been disturbed from his siesta, and seemed in very 
bad humor thereat. But his anger vanished as if by magic 
when he recognized his untimely visitor. 

“ Parmenon, Cecilia is ours!” said the latter; but, on 
his lips, this word, ours, seemed to mean, mine ; one could 
have easily seen that a master was speaking, and that Par- 
menon was a subaltern. “Yes, thanks to my eloquence, 
the mancipation in thy favor has been declared valid by the 
Recuperators, and thou canst put the ticket of sale on Cecilia ; 
but thou must explain that she is of free condition, else a 
guarantee will be required.” 

“Master, I shall put the ticket.” 

“ Very well! But it is necessary, absolutely necessary, 
that Cecilia should be sold to-morrow. Besides, thou wilt 
stipulate formally that she can never be afifranchized or 
emancipated. I have important reasons to make this a rigor- 
ous clause. Ah ! I was forgetting . . . the price must be 
one hundred thousand sestertii, not a slips less. Remember 
our agreement; I must have two-thirds. If ever thou 
shouldst think of invoking the absurd Cincia law, thou know- 
est, wretch, that I can . . . .” 

“Master, fear nothing; what has been agreed shall be 
faithfully fulfilled;” hastened to answer Parmenon,in whom 
the last words of the unknown had awakened unpleasant 
reminiscences. 

Satisfied with this promise, and having no further recom- 
mendation to make to Parmenon concerning Cecilia, our 
individual, who had not completed his self-imposed task, 
hastened to leave the Villa pvhlica, and returned in the 
direction of the Ratumena gate. 

Following his steps, we again cross the Forum; we then 
1 * 


10 


AURELIA; OR, 


leave it on our right to enter the Clivus of Victory, and we 
are in the Palatine, in its south-east angle, and in front of a 
celebrated house. Built by M. Livius Drusus, the people’s 
Tribune, it had passed into the hands of P. Crassus, and 
afterwards into those of Cicero, who borrowed three millions 
sestertii to pay Crassus the purchase motiey. 

This M. Livius Drusus made to his architect, who proposed 
to construct the house so as to protect the owner from prying 
eyes, this answer, which has been preserved by history : I 
wish my house could be made of glass, in order that every- 
body should see what is going on within.” 

The mysterious individual we have followed so far, looked 
carefully around to make sure that he was not observed ; and, 
having ascertained that the street was silent and deserted, 
crossed rapidly the small circular place in front of the house, 
knocked softly at the door, and addressing the slave-porter 
who answered his knock : 

“ Greeting,” said he, “ to Palaestrion, the future freedman 
of the divine Aurelia !” 

“ Alas, my lord,” replied the slave, bowing with deference, 
“may Jupiter hear you! Many times, already, you have 
given me such words of hope, but I do not perceive that my 
chain is loosened or its links broken I” 

And the poor fellow pointed to his legs, which were tightly 
imprisoned in a double circle of iron connected with a long 
chain, the end of which was firmly secured to the wall. 

“ You do wrong, Palaestrion,” resumed the unknown, 
“to doubt my words; every time you have seen me, I 
have broken one of those links, for I have given you gold, 
that is, the means of purchasing your freedom. And to- 
day again, I have taken care not to forget the interest I 
feel in the unhappy Palaestrion. Here are two aurei for 
you.” 

And he banded to the slave two gold pieces, which the 
latter hid away with marvellous dexterity, in the folds of his 
garment. 

“But, my lord,” remarked the slave, “you must have a 
motive to show such deep interest to a poor wretch like me ! 
I confess that l am very uneasy, for, since the last time you 
were here, something has happened in this house which has 
given me much to reflect upon 1” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


11 


“ Ah ! what is it, Paljestrion ? What has happened ?’’ 

“I must tell you, my lord, that our mistress, the di- 
vine Aurelia^ is not cruel towards her slaves. She sel- 
dom causes them to he whipped. She was very fond 

of a girl named Doris Did you know her, 

my lord !” asked Palaestrion, interrupting his narrative, 
for he had seen the unknown start at the mention of that 
name. 

‘ ‘ Why should you suppose I have known her T replied the 
latter, whose features assumed an expression of indifference. 
“Continue.” 

“Well, my lord, this Doris who was the habitual ornatrix 
(hair-dresser) of the divine Aurelia, by order of our mistress, 
she was stripped of all her clothes, suspended by her hair in 
the centre of the atrium^ and there, in presence of the whole 
family,^ was so cruelly whipped by the public executioner, 
that she expired under our eyes in the most horrible con- 
vulsions.” 

“And why this unusual severity?” asked the unknown 
with well-feigned impassibility. 

‘ ‘ Oh ! the divine Aurelia is quite grieved at the death of 
her hair-dresser ; she says she cannot replace her easily. It 
is even stated that she weeps frequently ; but we have been 
told again this morning, that she would consign to the same 
fate any member of the family who, like Doris, should betray 
the secrets of her house to Marcus Kegulus .... Why ! 
my lord, what is the matter with you ?” 

It required a mighty effort on the part of the unknown to 
conceal the emotion caused by this name. Pie succeeded, 
however, and replied with composure : 

“Nothing, Palaestrion; the fate of this young Doris fills 
my heart with compassion, and I could not suppress a groan. 
But this Marcus Kegulus must be very dangerous that such 
an order should be given ?” 

“They say, my lord, that he is the vilest wretch there is 
in Kome, and I have thought, . . . that Doris’ fate awaits 
me, . . . if . . . unfortunately ... he who questions me 
. . . and whom I do not know . . . should be . . .” 

“Thanks, Palaestrion, for the comparison and your good 


•»Xame by which the slaves in a household were designated. 


12 


AURELIA; OR, 


opinion of me ! But, thanks to the gods, my questions cannot 
compromise you and make you fear this fate ...” 

“It is true, my lord . . . and you will pardon a poor 
slave who trembles, but who meant no offence, . . . for you 
are not Marcus Begulus . . . Besides, I shall see whether I 
can reply to your questions. 

‘ ‘ They will be very simple ones, and dictated by my 
devotion to the noble house of your august mistress. Is our 
G-rand-Yestal, the illustrious Cornelia, any better? Will 
she soon be able to resume her high and holy duties ?” 

“No, my lord, the health of the Grrand-Y estal is not good. 
The divine Aurelia’s tender care cannot succeed in making 
her forget the punishment inflicted by the Pontiff Helvetius 
Agrippa ; and it is the deeply felt and ever recurring shame 
of that punishment, which, it is said, prevents her recovery.” 

‘ ‘ And your mistress, the divine Aurelia, is she occasionally 
visited by Metellus Celer ?” 

Palaestrion seemed to think this question dangerous or in- 
discreet, for he made no reply to it. His face even showed 
a shadow of suspicion, which vanished, however, when the 
unknown resumed unconcernedly — 

“After all, what interest have I in Metellus Celer’s doings 
more than in any one else’s ! But, tell me one thing that I 
do care about : do not Flavius Clemens and the two Flavia 
Domitillas come here any more ? I heard that your mistress 
had ceased seeing them. As for me, I do not believe a word 
of it ; they are so closely related !” 

“Oh 1 there are reasons.” 

“ They must be grave ones, then?” 

People say that Flavius Clemens and the two Flavias are 
— how shall I say? Ah ! yes, that they are with the Jews of 
the Capena gate.” 

“That is to say, Christians!” 

“ Yes, Christians, that’s it! And they would have liked 
that my mistress, the divine Aurelia, should become a Chris- 
tian also, but she refused. And she even told them that she 
would not see them any more, for they still insisted. ” 

The burden of a Spanish song, popularized in Borne by 
the poet Martial, resounded in the atrium, hummed by a 
pure young voice. 

The unknown started at the sound of this voice, and hur- 
ried away from the door, saying to Palaestrion : 


TEE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


13 


“ Some one comes ; t must be off. I shall see you again.” 

But he could not disappear quickly enough not to be seen 
by the singer, a young man, who came out of Aurelia’s house. 
The unknown turned round to cast a liasty glance on th® 
person who had interrupted his conversation with Palaestrion. 

“By Hercules!” exclaimed the young man, as he caught 
sight of the retreating figure, “ I believe it is that infamoui 
Regulus ! What brings him in this neighborhood ? Hallo 1 
Palasstrion,” he asked, turning to the porter, who trembled 
with fear, “ is it possible that you hold communication with 
Regulus ?” 

“No, my lord,” stammered the affrighted wretch, “I 
have no acquaintance with this Regulus, and I know too well 
that our divine mistress ...” 

“ Rascal ! if I were sure, I would flay you alive I But it 
is important that Cornelia and Aurelia should be informed of 
the presence of this man near their residence.” 

And the young man re-entered Aurelia’s house. 

Meanwhile, Marcus Regulus, for it was he who had fled 
on the approach of the young man, muttered to himself with 
exultant satisfaction, as he ran : 

“I was sure of it! I had recognized his voice! It is 
Metellus Celer ; he was there whilst I conversed with Palaes- 
trion. Ah ! Metellus, you visit the Grand Vestal at nooning 
time ! Very well ! Helvius Agrippa shall know this impor- 
tant fact, and another person also — the Great Pontiff Homiti- 
anus. We have got you now, illustrious Cornelia !” 

An hour later, Marcus Regulus was seated in his splendid 
mansion beyond the Tiber, thinking of the employment of 
his time; he could exclaim, like Titus: “I have not lost 
my day!” Only, it was with evil doings instead of good 
deeds that he marked his days. ^ 

Poor Palaestrion was not whipped to death like Doris, for 
there was no proof of his conversation with the spy ; but in 
his terror at the danger to which he had been exposed, and 
his indignation at the deception practised upon his ignorance, 
the slave muttered between his teeth : 

“Ah! Marcus Regulus, it was you? The villain! ‘I 
shall see you again,’ he said. AYell, let him come! I’ll set 
my dogs upon him !” 


2 


14 


AURELIA; OR, 


CHAPTER III. 

WARD AND GUARDIAN. 

T he burning rays of a J uly sun filled with light the dark 
and narrow streets of ancient Rome. The divine Aurelia 
who, surrounded by her maids, sat pensive in her cvhiculumy 
(bed room,) cast a languid glance on the bright sky, and 
addressing the attentive slaves who awaited her commands : 

“I want to go this afternoon,” said she in an imperious 
tone, “to Pompey’s portico. Let my guardian, Vibius 
Crispus, be notified immediately, and let every thing be in 
readiness at the eighth hour of the day (four o’clock, P. M.)” 

It was no little matter, this going out of a matron of 
Aurelia’s rank. When she left her house where she usually 
led the silent and retired life of the gynecium, to appear in 
public, it must be with an escort proportionate to her high 
condition. 

No sooner then was the order of the noble patrician trans- 
mitted, than her five hundred slaves were in commotion, and 
Cicero’s ancient house was made noisy with their preparations 
for so great an event. 

But it is time we should say something of this Aurelia, 
whom Marcus Regulus never failed to designate as the 
divine Aurelia, a title that may appear perhaps too honorific 
for a simple mortal. 

We shall take the same occasion to explain why the G-rand- 
Vestal- — the illustrious Cornelia, as Regulus styled her — hap- 
pened to be in Aurelia’s house instead of inhabiting the 
atrium regium, the sacred asylum of the Virgins of Vesta. 

Aurelia Flavia-Domitilla — for she bore these surnames 
in common with all the female members of the Fla via race, 
was the grand-niece of the emperor Vespasian. Her father 
was Flavius Sabinus, son of Sabinus Major, Vespasian's 
elder brother ; and her mother, Julia, the daughter of Titus, 
so much beloved by the Romans. 

She was, therefore, the grand-niece of Domitian_, and also 
the niece of Flavius Clemens, her father’s brother. We 
must also mention — for all these names belong to our narra- 
tive — that her cousin, Flavia Domitilla, had become her aunt. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


15 


having married Flavius Clemens, whose supposed conversion 
to the religion of Christ gave Regulus so much anxiety. 
Another cousin, bearing also the name of Flavia Domitilla, 
was likewise suspected of being a Jewess or Christian. 

Our charming young heroine was, therefore, doubly con- 
nected with the imperial family; and during the reign of 
Domitian, who claimed from all who addressed him the title 
of Master and God, (^Dominus et Deus noster,') no one would 
have dared speak of a relative of the emperor, without using 
a title that admitted her participation in this much feared 
divinity. 

Moreover, Domitian, whose only child had died in its in- 
fancy, had recently, by a public act, designated for his suc- 
cessors to the empire, the two sons of Flavius Clemens, 
whose names he had changed into those of Vcspasianus and 
Domitianus. The education of these two young men had 
been confided to the celebrated Quintilian. 

The eldest, Vespasian, was to marry his young cousin, 
Aurelia, who would thus share with him, after Domitian’s 
death, the throne of the universe. The divine Aurelia was, 
therefore, the greatest lady of Rome, although, at the time 
our narrative commences, she had barely attained her fifteenth 
year. Her wealth was immense. Resides her house in 
Rome, and the five hundred i?laves which filled it, besides 
several magnificent villas situated in the finest sections of 
Italy, the divine Aurelia possessed, in ready money, the 
enormous sum of two billions seven hundred millions sestertii, 
and her jewels were valued at forty millions sestertii. 

But Aurelia was an orphan. 

The years of childhood flow sadly when they are not em- 
bellished by a father’s care or the love of a mother. This 
had been the young Aurelia’s bitter experience. 

However, her youthful sorrow had been soothed by the 
tender affection of a young girl near whom she passed her 
early years in the sanctuary of Vesta. This young girl, con- 
nected with the most illustrious family of Rome, the family 
of the Scipios, the Syllas, the Cinnas, etc., was the Vestal 
Cornelia, with whose touching and mournful history we shall 
acquaint the reader. 

The vestals, six in number, were chosen from among 
young girls between six and ten years of age, and remained 


16 


AURELIA; OR, 


during thirty years attached to the temple. During the first 
ten years they studied the rites and ceremonies ; during the 
second period of ten years, they practiced, and during the 
third they taught. 

The vestal who, survived the trials of this long service, and 
became the most ancient, was styled the Grand- Vestal or 
Vestal ia- Maxima ; she was distinguished from her five com- 
panions by greater honors and higher prerogatives. But, her 
responsibility increased with her elevation, and she had often 
to bear alone the cruel punishments awarded for faults 
committed by other vestals. 

Such was the case with Cornelia; she had attained the 
supreme rank of Grand-Vestal, but had soon become apprized 
of its perils. 

She had suffered the chastisement of slaves ! 

The Sacred Fire having been extinguished through the 
neglect of one of the priestesses, Helvius Agrippa, Domitian’s 
substitute in the pontificate, had made her responsible of this 
fault which was considered a most unhappy omen, and the 
proud patrician girl was subjected, like the vilest of slaves, to 
the tortures of flagellation. 

Shame, even more than physical pain, had made her 
seriously ill; and being authorized, according to custom, 
to withdraw to a private house during her sickness, she had 
left momentarily the Atrium Regium, for the roof of her dear 
Aurelia who, at the age of twelve years, as fixed by the 
Homan law, had had to leave the temple of Vesta. 

This necessary digression being ended, we shall now resume 
the thread of our story. 

The curtain of Aurelia^s apartment was drawn aside, and 
an old man of small stature, with a smiling and pleasant 
countenance, entered, bowing to the young girl with every 
demonstration of respect. He wore the laticlave, indicating 
the rank of senator. It was Vibius Crispus, Aurelia’s 
guardian, whom she had sent for. 

It was he who incurred the displeasure of Domitian by an 
impudent joke preserved by history. The emperor had a 
curious habit of transfixing flies with the point of his style. 
On one occasion, somebody having asked Vibius if the em- 
peror was alone : 

“ Certainly,” replied the waggish old man, “ there is not 
fven a fly with him.” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


17 


Domitian was furious when he heard of this, hut the astute 
old courtier managed so well that he outlived his master’s 
anger, and even retained his favor, since he remained the 
divine Aurelia’s guardian. 

“My august ward has sent for her old guardian,” he 
remarked, saluting her with mingled familiarity and respect. 
“ Can I have the happiness of doing anything for her ?” 

“ Yes, my dear guardian, I wish you to accompany me to 
Pompey’s portico.” 

“ But,” exclaimed Yibius, who had had time to notice the 
sad expression of the young girl’s face, “ there is something 
else, for, by Jupiter, I believe you are weeping ! Come, my 
dear ward, what is the matter with you? Speak, I beseech 
you ! Your unworthy guardian may, perhaps, bring back a 
smile on that charming face.” 

“Oh ! my dear Vibius, I am indeed very unhappy ! The 
state of my poor Cornelia saddens me ; and then . . . 

“Then?” 

“ I am very guilty . . . Read this letter.” 

And she handed to Yibius a sheet of papyrus such as was 
manufactured in Rome since Claudius’ time, and which was as 
white as our best vellum-. 

The letter was from Flavia Domitilla (not the Flavia wife 
of Clemens) and written on that very morning to her young 
cousin, Aurelia. It ran thusi: 

“ Flavia Domitilla to Aurelia-Flavia-Domitilla, 

“ Greeting: 

“ Dear Cousin. — ^We have just now learned that you have 
caused your hair-dresser, Doris, to be put to death. Un- 
doubtedly, the laws of Rome gave you this right ; but you 
must be aware that few citizens avail themselves of it, unless, 
indeed, they are entirely pitiless ; and it is sad that a young 
girl of your age should be put on the same level with those 
cruel men. 

“Your uncle Clemens, and Flavia Domitilla, your aunt, 
think that it is very unfortunate that the betrothed of their 
son could be guilty of such an abuse of power. 

“According to our religion, it is a crime to take the life of 
a fellow-being; and our slaves, although they owe us 
' 2 * 


18 AURELIA; OR, 

©■bedience and respect, arc our brothers, being the children of 
the same Grod. 

“See, dear cousin, if such a religion is not greater and 
more beautiful than that which teaches the master to look 
upon those unfortunates as so many vile animals. 

“ We pray to Grod that He may pardon and enlighten you.” 

Vibius Crispus, having read this letter, was seized with a 
fit of laughter. This selfish and corrupt old man, one of the 
representatives of a decrepid and heartless society could find 
only a subject for mirth in those simple and dignified remarks. 

However, as this irony might be construed as a want of 
respect for his august ward, he apologized and asked : 

‘ ‘ Are these reproaches and singular counsels the cause of 
your sadness, divine Aurelia 

“ Yes, I must confess it, dear guardian, I have been deeply 
moved by this letter ; the more so as I had already said to 
m3'solf almost the same things !” 

“ So, you think that a master has not over his slaves the 
right you have exercised.” 

“Ko, Vibius. But the treatment was so cruel! ... It 
is true that I had not given such orders, and it is a misfortune 
if my hair-dresser succumbed . . . But this misfortune, I 
am charged with it. What will my cousin Vespasian think 
of it?” 

“Ah! my dear and divine ward,” said Vibius smiling, 
and looking at the blushing young girl ; “ ah ! you are afraid 
of appearing too harsh in the eyes of the dear betrothed, and 
of displeasing him! Very well! at least this is a motive. 
And this is why we wish to go Pompey’s portico, where the 
young cousin walks every afternoon with his tutor.” 

“Vibius ! Vibius ! you are very wicked ! Yes, I want to 
lee my cousin, but it is to explain to him . . to excuse . .” 

‘ ‘ And what need have you of excuses ? I was present the 
other day at Faunia’s toilet. Her waiting maids were around 
her, their shoulders bare down to the waist ; and I can 
assure you the whip did not remain idle when any of them 
was guilty of carelessness. Bo you think Faunia would 
mourn over the death of a hair-dresser !” 

And as the young girl remained thoughtful and silent, 
Vibius continued : 

“For having forgotten a towel, Ogulnia’s bathing-attendant 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


19 


was tortured with blades of brass brought to a red-heat. 
Medullina, that fair and gentle girl, moderates the unbearable 
chattering of her chamber-maids by sticking into their arms 
the long pins with which she fastens her hair. Has any 
body ever accused these matrons of being pitiless ? As for 
me, I am of Pliny-the-Younger’s opinion — and surely, no one 
will accuse him of cruelty towards his slaves ; speaking of the 
tragical end of Sargius Macedo, beaten to death by his 
family, he remarked that masters should make themselves 
feared, else all would perish ! Rome, my dear ward, contains 
two hundred thousand citizens and two millions of slaves ; 
will your cousin Flavia-Domitilla tell me how they can be 
kept down, unless it is by the terror of punishment?” 

Vibius-Crispus might have multiplied indefinitely his exam- 
ples, without obtaining a word from Aurelia. It was easy to 
perceive that remorse had entered her young heart, already 
disposed to feelings of goodness and humanity, and that the 
pitiless arguments of Yibius worried her. 

He understood this, and changed adroitly the conversation : 

“I know somebody,” he said, “who would pay a large 
price for the letter you have shown me.” 

“ And who is it, if you please?” interrupted Aurelia. 

“Marcus Regulus.” 

“ Marcus Regulus! why so, guardian?” 

Because he would find in this letter a proof he has been 
seeking everywhere : that Flavius Clemens, his wife, and 
your cousin Flavia-Domitilla are Christians.” 

“And what would be the result ?” Aurelia hastily inquired. 

“The result? I don’t know I But in the Emperor 
Nero’s time, it happened more than once, that we strolled in 
his gardens, lighted by Christians whom they burnt in the 
guise of torches, with tunics prepared with sulphur and rosin. 
Perhaps the Emperor Domitian would like to enjoy one 
of these agreeable spectacles.” 

With one bound, the divine Aurelia, her beautiful face 
bathed in tears, was in her guardian’s arms. 

“Oh! my guardian. Oh! my dear Vibius,” sobbed the 
young girl, “ what good your words have done me ! Doris 
was an infamous wretch ! Her death was just, and I have 
nothing to reproach myself with !” 

Vibius could not understand. He received his ward’s 


20 AURELIA; OR, 

caresses like one who knows not what to do, or what to think. 

“ My dear ward,” he said at last, “ your affection honors 
and touches me. But tell me, how could my words bring 
this change ? . . .” 

Oh 1 Vibius, Doris had written to Regulus. Her letter 
was intercepted . . . Cornelia and Metellus Celer were so 
indignant at this, that they ordered her punishment ...” 

“ What were the contents of that letter V” 

‘ ‘ First, Doris informed Regulus that Celer visits Cornelia 
almost every day.” 

“ This is a grave matter for your friend, my dear ward ; I 
begin to understand . . . And then ?” 

“ Then, she positively accused my relatives, Flavius 
Clemens and the two Flavias Domitillas of being Christians, 
and related their attempts to convert me.” 

“It is very lucky, dear ward,” said Vibius, interrupting 
Aurelia, “that Doris’ letter should have been intercepted. 
You are right, she deserved death, for Regulus would have 
made a detestable use of that letter. But the Emperor is 
absent, I am informed of the facts and there is nothing to fear 
until he returns ; we shall see, then, how to prevent the 
misfortunes that may threaten . . . Dry your tears, divine 
Aurelia, and let us start for Pompey’s portico. Your 
Numidian horsemen are ready, and when I arrived they 
could scarcely restrain their impatient steeds. Let us go I” 
And Vibius clapped his hands as a signal to the escort. 

The young girl’s sadness had vanished, and her face had 
resumed its wonted serenity. 

When she appeared in the atrium, her graceful features 
veiled in a diaphanous tissue of delicate fabric, and her 
flexible waist concealed by the folds of her stole and her wide 
palla, every one was ready. 

Sixteen slaves surrounded the rich' litter with purple 
cushions. They were Ethiopians of the deepest black, clad 
in snow-white tunics, and wore silver bracelets on their 
wrists and ankles. Near them stood the indispensable crowd 
of hand-maids, receiving the instructions-of Aurelia’s nurse. 

These women were provided with the numerous elegant 
trifles, without which a fashionable lady, in those days, could 
not have hazarded herself in the streets. Parasols to 
protect the face; large fans of peacock feathers; balls of 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


21 


crystal or yellow amber, which were rolled in the hands to 
prevent their sweating; tame snakes of a peculiar small 
specie, and of icy coldness, which were used — living neck- 
laces, — to keep the throat cool, were among the inventions of 
fashion that our lady readers would have examined with the 
greatest curiosity and astonishment. 

Fifty Numidian horsemen, clad in brilliant lacernas or 
military coats, were to precede and follow the litter, to keep 
the crowd off. 

Aurelia having taken her place on the soft cushions,-Vibius 
gave the signal, and eight Ethiopians lifted the magnificent 
litter. 

The distance from the Palatine to Pompey’s portico, was 
quite long, and the cortege was fully an hour going over it. 
Arrived at the entrance of the portico, Aurelia stepped out 
of her litter, and entered, followed by Vibius, her nurse and 
her female attendants. 


CHAPTEK IV. 

A SLAVE MARKET. 

T he Forum and the Campus Martius were not only the 
centres of the political life of the Romans, but the spots 
where the greatest magnificences of the capital of the world 
were accumulated. There were to be found its finest monu- 
ments and most sumptuous porticos; its wealthiest temples 
and most elegant walks ; its most fashionable shops or taverns ; 
all the enjoyments and seductions offered to the idle and 
purposeless existence of its most illustrious citizens. 

Modern art never could imitate the wonderful splendor of 
some of the edifices contained in the Campus Martius. 
Among these marvels were the porticos or covered walks 
supported by pillars of magnificent architecture. Pompey’s 
portico, a vast parallelogram of 570 Roman feet in length. 
On a width of 350 feet, was the largest and most pleasant of 
these walks, being connected with the Hecatonstylon. 

It was the habitual resort of the aristocratic society of Rome, 


22 


AURELIA; OR, 


whicli thronged daily the wide space between the three 
hundred pillars of red granite forming a double range of 
galleries around the interior courts shaded by plane-trees 
and embellished with statues and fountains. The interior of 
these galleries was ornamented with paintings from the 
great Greek masters ; whilst on the exterior, marble seats 
secured to the walls, afforded the visitors facilities for rest 
and conversation. 

When Aurelia entered Pompey’s portico, the crowd gave 
way, wijth respect, and gazed upon her with curiosity mingled 
with interest and solicitude. Every one knew this young 
girl as tho Emperor’s nearest relation, and no one was igno- 
rant of the high destinies which awaited her. 

With a single glance, Aurelia had scanned the immense 
multitude, and had sought in vain the only person she wished 
to see. 

“ My causin is not here,” she exclaimed with vexation. 

“ It is true, august ward,” replied Vibius ; “I had forgot- 
ten that his tutor has recently lost his two sons in a few days.” 

“ But I must see Vespasian,” said Aurelia; “ I wdsh to 
speak to him by all means, and you know that my uncle and 
aunt do not receive me any longer.” 

“ You can write to him, my dear ward. Besides, I shall 
arrange an interview. But, for the present, you must seek 
. some diversion^ and think no more of things that grieve you. 
Do you not like the sight of this portico, of the elegant 
society which fills it? I will call your escort if you desire, 
and we shall go to the Appian way ?” 

“ Oh ! what fine vases and magnificent things !” exclaimed 
the young girl, interrupting Vibius, and stopping before a 
tavern in which a man, clad in a strange and fantastic tunic, 
stood by a table covered with objects of art. 

“Will the niece of the Emperor Domitian, the divine 
Aurelia, permit me to offer her whatever may please her in 
this tavern?” said an individual who suddenly approached 
the young girl. 

“Who are you ?” asked Aurelia somewhat haughtily. 

“I come from the countries of Aurora,” replied the un- 
known,” bowing respectfully; “with this man and these 
murrhine vases, which I intend offering the Emperor Domitian. 
He will, doubtless, be pleased that his niece should select . .” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


23 


“I accept, I accept!” cried the delighted young girl, 
extending her hands toward two amphorae of admirable design. 

“ But,” she added, “ these vases must be worth a consid- 
erable sum, and I wish to pay for them. Will you appraise 
them, my dear Vibius ?” 

“ A friend of mine,” said Vibius, “ recently bought a cup 
of myrrh for seventy talents 1 it was larger than these two 
vases put together, but I must say that it was not of such 
fine make, nor had it the three colors, so precious in the eyes 
of lovers of the fine arts, and which are perfect in these 
vases.” 

“ Then, you will send this tavern-master one hundred and 
forty talents this very day, provided, my dear guardian, that 
you authorize this folly of your ward ; but those vases are so 
beautiful 1” And turning to the unknown : 

‘ ‘ What is your name ?” 

“ Apollonius of Thyana, madam.” 

“What! can you be this Apollonius, who has filled Ronie 
with reports of his prodigies?” 

“Yes, madam,” replied the philosopher, bowing again 
with still more deference ; ‘ ‘ and I cannot admit that the 
Emperor’s niece should pay me for the very unworthy present 
which I am but too happy to offer her.” 

“Very well,” replied the proud young patrician girl, “but 
the Emperor’s niece cannot be under obligations to Apollonius. 
The vases shall remain here, or they shall be paid for, in 
money or otherwise. What is it you wish?” • 

“ An audience from the Emperor, on his return.” 

This favor was so great that an enormous price was paid 
for it. It could be looked upon as if liberal compensation for 
the richest present. Aurelia hesitated a little. 

“You shall have your audience,” she said at last ; “how- 
ever, it is my pleasure that in exchange for these two 
murrhine vases, you shall accept from me two Corinthian 
cups, which will be sent to your tavern to-day.” 

Apollonius bowed for the third time without making any 
repjy. When he looked up, the divine Aurelia was already 
some steps off. Two of her hand-maids carried the murrhino 
vases. 

When she reached the peristyle, Aurelia found her litter 
and her attendants. 


24 


AURELIA; OR, 


“Let us return by the way of the Villa puhlica,’’^ said she 
to Yibius; “I wish to see if the onyx and myrrh vases which 
are sold there can compare with mine.” 

The Villa piiblica was an immense bazaar where Home 
displayed all the treasures of her commercial wealth, and 
where, also, the shame of her pitiless civilization could be 
seen in all its nakedness. 

Aurelia’s wishes were orders for Vibius; he commanded 
the escort to take the way to the Villa puhlica. 

When they reached Flaminius’ circus, an unexpected sight 
attracted Aurelia’s attention, and she ordered her escort to 
halt. 

On a high platform erected in the centre of a tavern already 
known to us, stood a number of half naked wretches, men 
and women, boys and girls, all wearing a label or ticket tied 
to their neck, and a white woolen cap or a crown of foliage 
on their heads. It was a slave market. 

Parmenon, whom we have seen in such intimate conversa- 
tion with Marcus Kegulus, paraded in front of the platform, 
addressing the crowd and praising his human merchandize. 
The wretch held a long whip, which he applied from time to 
time to the shoulders of the trembling slaves, who neverthe- 
less bore the stinging cuts of the lash without even a groan of 
pain. 

‘ ‘ Look at that ! How docile they are !” cried Parmenon 
triumphantly. “A master can chastise them at his pleasure. 
No revolt^ no fatiguing lamentations need be feared. Come, 
citizens, Puy, buy! The libripens is not far, and eight 
thousand sestertii are no great sum.” 

But no purchasers cam 0 K)ut of the compact crowd, although, 
from the black African to the fair young daughter of Graul, 
there was there an assortment of colors, ages and sexes, to 
suit the most fastidious. 

Parmenon was despairing of effecting a single sale, when 
Aurelia’s escort loomed in the distance. He concluded that 
some wealthy citizen was approaching, and his face became 
radiant with hope. 

“ Bring out the slaves from the interior 1” he exclaimed, 
addressing his assistant. 

The custom with slave-traders, was to expose to the public 
gaze the least valuable slaves, whilst those of greater value. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


25 


whom the perfection of their form or the talents they possessed 
fitted for the higher duties of body-servants, were cared for in 
an interior apartment, and only brought out on great 
occasions. 

At Parmenon’s command, a new lot of slaves ascended the 
platform. A thrill of admiration went through the crowd. 
Here was a splendid collection. 

One young girl, particularly, attracted the admiring gaze 
of all. Her graceful form was protected by a few strips 
of coarse cloth, and her beautiful hair fell loose over her 
shoulders, covering her to the waist. 

Like her companions, she wore the ticket of sale, but with 
this difference : it set forth that she was of free condition, and 
could never be affranchised. Her misfortune was then to bo 
eternal. 

Nevertheless, her face, turned up towards heaven, expressed 
a divine feeling of resignation. Silent tears which did not 
belie her courage, rolled slowly over her delicate and blushing 
cheeks. 

This young girl was Cecilia — the victim of Marcus Kegulus. 

When she appear.ed on the platform, three cries were 
heard : 

First, a cry of despair from her father, almost convulsed 
with grief. 

Secondly, a cry of rage, resembling a threat, proffered by 
a young man, Cecilia’s betrothed, who struggled to reach the 
platform, but was held back by his friends. 

The third cry was a sublime exclamation, a supreme 
invitation to fortitude and hope : 

‘ ‘ Courage ! Cecilia,” said this voice, ‘ ‘ courage ! Think of 
God for whom thou sufferest persecution, think of Christ, His 
Son, whn will be thy reward !” 

She who spoke these strange words — heard for the first time 
in Home and in a slave market — was an old woman, almost an 
octogenarian, who crouched at the foot of the platform. She 
had cried “courage,” and yet she wept. The resignation of 
the soul cannot control the tortures of the heart. 

Cecilia had heard the three cries, her eyes searched the 
crowd, and she found a smile for the three persons who 
watched over her. 

She also remarked a man who, springing forward from his 

3 


26 


AURELIA; OR, 


place of concealment behind a pillar, whence he had observed 
with anxiety the proceedings we have described, hastened to 
speak to Parmenon. It was Marcus Regulus. 

“ Take care !” he said hurriedly to the slave trader ; “they 
want to get Cecilia away from you ! Here is the divine 
Aurelia, the niece of the Emperor, coming with her escort. 
You must induce her to stop and to buy the girl. A hundred 
thousand sestertii will not frighten her !” 

Parmenon’s eyes closed as if dazzled by the mere thought 
of so much gold. Then he drew himself up proudly and 
stepped forward. The wretch was intoxicated with avaricious 
joy and hope. 

It was at this moment Aurelia bade her escort stop. She 
saw Cecilia, read the label, and said to Yibius : 

“ Gruardian, I like the looks of this young girl. I wish to 
purchase her, ask that man what price he holds her at. She 
will replace Doris.” 

Parmenon had heard her words. With one bound he was 
near Vibius. 

“From any other purchaser, I would want two hundred 
thousand sestertii, but to the divine Aurelia, the august 
niece of our master, the Emperor Domitian, I shall sell this 
slave for one hundred thousand sestertii. My lord, do you 
authorize the purchase ?” 

Vibius was the model of guardians ; he looked at his ward, 
and interpreting rightly her winning smile, as a prayer, the 
worthy senator yielded without objection and called for the 
lihripens. 

A man carrying a pair of scales, approached immediately. 
This was the lihripens, the indispensable accessory to all 
sales and mancipations. 

Aurelia stepped out of her litter, and Cecilia was ordered 
to come down from the platform. 

The haughty mistress and her future slave exchanged one 
look ; that of the noble lady was full of pride, that of the 
humble girl full of humble submissiveness. 

Aurelia held in her hand a brass coin, symbol of the 
mancipation. With a firm step she advanced towards Cecilia ; 
and covering the girl’s head with her hand, pronounced the 
consecrated formula: “I say this young girl is mine by the 
law of the Quirites, and that I have bought her with this 
money and these scales.” 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


2T 


^ At the same time, she touched the scales of the Uhripens 
with her coin, which she then handed to Parmenon as 
the fictitious price of Cecilia’s mancipation. 

The fellow who did not appreciate fictions, even when they 
were a legal form^ asked the senator when he could get 
the real amount. 

“Immediately,” said Vihius; “send to my ward’s stew- 
ard.” 

But, as the young patrician, taking possession of her 
new slave was about re-entering in her litter, a strange scene 
occurred. 

Another cortege, coming from the Batumena gate and 
going to the temple of Juno-Ilegina_, near Flaminius’ Circus, 
had surrounded Aurelia’s escort during the formalities of the 
mancipation. 

The noisy instruments which preceded it had stopped 
suddenly upon recognizing the Emperor’s niece. 

A young girl descended from a chariot drawn by two 
heifers with gilt horns. She wore the mysterious dress of the 
priestesses of Isis ; a band of Corybantes and priests of 
Cybele, wearing the Phrygian tiara on their heads, accom- 
panied her, making strange gestures and shouting so loud as 
to drown at times the noisy music. 

The priestess of Isis was radiant with beauty ; her eyes, 
more brilliant than the golden stars which encircled her head, 
were resplendent with the fire of inspiration. 

It was Ganna, the prophetess, who^ like Yelleda, had come 
from Gaul to prophecy the future. She had been received 
with great honors at Rome, where she already replaced the 
divinities in whom the people no longer believed. 

“Daughter of Titus,” she cried, when Aurelia’s hand 
touched Cecilia’s head; “do not take that slave to your 
home, she will bring you death !” 

But the octogenarian whom we have seen encouraging. 
Cecilia rose at these words ; her eyes also shining with 
sublime enthusiasm. 

“Daughter of the Caesars,” said she in solemn accents, 
addressing the divine Aurelia, “take this young girl home, 
she will give you life !” 

The aged woman who spoke thus, was Petronilla, the 
daughter of Peter, chief of the apostles. 


28 


AURELIA; OR, 


The crowd contemplated with silent surprise, these two 
women, so different in every respect, Petronilla and Ganna, 
both speaking to the niece of the Emperor, in the same 
authoritative tone. 

One foretelling death ; the other promising life. 

Both spoke the truth ! 

One, notwithstanding her youth, represented the past ; the 
other, notwithstanding her old age, represented the future. 

Double and living image of Rome ! of the old Rome dying 
with her brow crowned with flowers ; of the young Rome 
entering life amid suffering and desolation ! 

Aurelia, the careless child, saw in all this only the charm- 
ing slave she had purchased and she wished to keep. 

Vibius Crispus, the skeptic old man, shrugged his shoulders 
impatiently. 

‘ ‘ Let us go !” said he to his ward. 

The cortege moved, and soon, with Cecilia, Christianity 
was entering Cicero’s ancient dwelling. 


I 

CHAPTER V. ^ 

5 ? 

FIRST LIGHTS. 

I T was a day forever memorable in the history of nations, 
that on which St. Paul, at Caesarea, a captive and accused 
by the Jews, delivered before Porcius Festus, the governor of 
Judea, and King Agrippa, that magnificent discourse pre- 
served in the Acts of the Apostles, and which he ended with 
this supreme invocation : 

“ I appeal to Caesar I” 

Paul appealing to Caesar, must be sent to Rome. King 
Agrippa convinced of the sublimity of Paul’s doctrine, and 
feeling himself almost a Christian, would have liked to set 
him free, for he did not believe he deserved the death penalty 
claimed by his accusers, nor the imprisonment in which he 
had already been kept two years ; but it was impossible to 
neglect this appeal to Caesar. Porcius Festus had replied ; 

‘ ‘ Thou appealest to Caesar, thou shalt go to Caesar I” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


29 


This CaBsar was the Emperor Nero. Could Paul hope to 
make him tremble with the same words which had moved the 
hearts of his judges, Felix, Porcius Festus, and King 
Agrippa ? 

Did the Apostle intend speaking to Nero of justice, of 
chastity and of the judgment to come ? 

And Rome? how would she listen to Paul announcing 
penitence, preaching conversion to an only God, and works 
of mercy worthy of that penitence? 

Truly, Paul must have lost his senses, and Festus had 
justly exclaimed ; 

“Thou art mad, Paul! Thy science has disturbed thy 
understanding 1” 

Albeit* Paul shall go to Rome. 

Peter has already been there sometime ; he has founded 
there the seat of the Church of Jesus Christ ; it is important 
that Paul should join him. 

Who knows ? Jesus Christ has already some rights in the 
capital of the world : the Caesars have authorized him to be 
a God, and Tiberius has • caused his bust to be placed in 
the senate — until His Faith shall reign in Rome 1 

Paul’s arrival was announced, and the faithful went to 
meet him at Appius’ Forum. He stopped at a modest inn, 
and the Roman police authorized him to remain there, and 
placed a soldier at his door to watch over him. He was free, 
however, to go about the city, and to see whom he pleased. 

There were two classes of Jews in Rome at that time. 
Some, wealthy and powerful, had taken their residence there 
as they have done since in all the great centres of population. 
The others, poor and obscure, faithful and chosen flock, had 
followed St. Peter, and congregated around him, leading a 
life of prayer and labor, unknown to all except to the unfor- 
tunates whom they assisted as brothers, the flscal agents who 
ground them by their exactions, and the philosophers who 
commenced to look upon their doctrines with uneasiness. 

Not far from the Capena gate, to the left as one came out 
by the Appian way, was a small woods, consecrated to Libitina, 
the goddess of funerals. 

Formerly, on this same spot, there had stood a temple 
dedicated to the nymph Egeria, and some sanctuaries inhab- 


2 * 


80 


AURELIA; OR, 


ited — tradition said — by the Muses. Nothing remainer^is of 
these structures but ruins covering the soil. 

Such was at Rome the humble and obscure cradle of 
Christianity, of the worship of the Grod made man and born 
in a stable. 

The early Christians, driven away from the city, had sought 
an asylum amid these ruins transformed into miserable huts, 
for which they had had to pay an exorbitant price. They 
were compelled, besides, to pay a heavy tax which was enforced 
by the harshest means. 

The wits of Rome found in these poor people fit subjects 
for their most cutting epigrams. And yet, these despised 
Jews had brought to Rome two dogmas which her wise men 
had only suspected : the unity of God and the imihortality 
of the soul. 

Rut Paul was at Rome now, and he would doubtless over- 
eome this contempt. 

Soon after his arrival, he called together the principal 
men among the Jews. Before commencing the struggle and 
fulfilling his mission, he wished to know what he could 
expect from his people. 

He told them what he had suffered and why he had been 
delivered into the hands of the Romans. 

“Has any one coming from Judea, or any letter that you 
may have received,” he asked, “ given you cause to think ill 
of me ? ” 

Those whom he had assembled answered negatively. 

“ But,” said the most influential, “ we would like to learn 
from you something about this sect, which every one here 
and elsewhere contradict.” 

Paul spokoio them, with his magnificent eloquence, of the 
Kingdom of God, of Jesus Christ whose coming was an- 
nounced by Moses and the prophets. 

But the Jews shook their heads in sign of doubt, and only 
a few believed in his words. 

Such was Paul’s^ first sermon in Rome. 

The prophecy of Isaiah was being accomplished. 

Paul had commenced with the Jews, but their hardened 
hearts had remained closed to his words ; the time had come 
when he must turn to the Romans. 

There lived in Rome, at that time, a great philosopher 
named Seneca. 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


31 


Every one knows his life and his works, so full of elevated 
thoughts and belief, that Saint Jerome did not hesitate to 
rank him with the Christian authors, and designated him as : 
our Seneca (^Seneca noster.') 

This distinguished writer having incurred Nero’s dis- 
pleasure and fearing for his life, had moved from the Palatine 
to the Alta Semita, one of the least populated districts of 
Rome, where he lived in retirement and obscurity, trying to 
be forgotten. 

He had gradually renounced the pleasures of the world, 
and devoted his time to study. 

One day, as he sat alone, silent, and absorbed in his books, 
his servant announced a stranger who wished to speak to him. 

The philosopher hesitated, for it might be a spy or a mes- 
senger from the Emperor, but, upon reflection he ordered the 
visitor to be introduced. 

A man appeared on the threshold ; having cast a glance 
at his poor garments, and his intelligent features, Seneca 
recognized in his visitor one of those Jews already so 
numerous in Rome. 

He guessed right ; it was a Jew, it was Paul, the Apostle, 
who had called on Seneca the philosopher. 


CHAPTER VI. 

PAUL AND SENECA. 

T he philosopher made a gesture of impatience, as if the 
visit was not altogether agreeable to him. , 

Paul waited in silence. His deportment was modest, but 
it betrayed no embarrassment. 

There was a strange light about his countenance which a 
man like Seneca could not fail to notice. He made him sign 
to approach. 

Paul complied, and with honorable deference, made the 
customary salutation of the Romans ; he brought his right 
hand to his lips, and bowed his head from left to right. 

But Seneca did not complete the ceremony by extending 
his hand to the new comer, as was the practice between 
friends. 


82 


AURELIA; OR, 


Paul did not seem to notice the cold reserve of this first 
meeting, hut hastened to present to Seneca the long and thin 
strips of scytale which he held in his hand, saying : 

“ This is from your brother Gallion.” 

The scytale was a secret letter. A few sheets of thin 
parchment, cut in varied forms, were added together, then 
rolled around a small cylinder made of wood or metal, 
upon which they then wrote. The letter being written was 
unrolled and handed to the person v/ho was to carry it. 

To connect the words thus divided, it required a cylinder 
exactly similar to the one upon which the letter had been 
written, and the greatest precision and care in the manner of 
adjusting the parchment around it. 

Seneca took the letter from the hand of the apostle, and 
having sought the cylinder corresponding to his brother’s 
proceeded to perform the difficult operation of reconstructing 
the missive. 

“ This letter is very old,” he remarked when he was able 
to read the date. 

“Yes, it was handed me by your brother more than two 
years ago. Since, I have been a captive and I am one still. 
I came to Rome because I appealed to Cassar. 

“ I pity you,” said Seneca simply. 

The apostle made no answer, and waited for his host to 
accomplish his difficult task. 

At last, Seneca proceeded to read the letter. From time 
to time, he interrupted his reading to contemplate the apostle 
with mingled astonishment and curiosity. 

But the time had not yet come for Paul to speak. 

“My brother writes me,” said Seneca when he had done 
reading, “that you are a rare genius — a great orator and a 
great philosopher.” 

“I am,” said Paul, “only the last among the servants of 
God, and all my strength is in Jesus Christ.” 

“In fact,” remarked Seneca, without manifesting the 
least surprise at this strange answer, ‘ ‘ my brother adds that 
you are a Christian. Is this true, my dear Paulus — such, 
I believe is your name.” 

“ It is so true and serious a fact,” said the apostle firmly, 
and covering the philosopher with his ardent gaze, “ that in 
two years Nero will have me beheaded, not for the accusation 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


33 


now pending against me, but for the faith of my divine 
master.” 

‘ ‘ What ; would you give your life for this superstition ? ” 

* * At this very instant, I would ! But the time has not 
yet come ; I have a mission to fulfill, it must be terminated.” 

What may be this mission, dear Paulus?” 

To teach Rome the kingdom of God and His justice ; to 
help Peter to found the immovable, eternal Church ! . . .” 

“ This Peter, I have heard of him, dear Paulus ; the things 
he announces are strange and impossible !” 

“ Listen, Seneca,” said the apostle with authority, “ I tell 
you, in truth, you cannot understand them.” 

“Am I not a philosopher, and a philosopher of some 
merit ?” said Seneca with pride. 

‘ ‘ The God .1 proclaim reveals Himself to simple hearts ; 
He disdains the vain science of the world. He conceals 
Himself from the philosophers of whom you speak.” 

‘ ‘ But what do you pretend ? Will this Rome which you 
wish to teach, be more humble and better prepared than I 
am ? Do you think she will listen to your voice ?” 

“The Spirit of God will inspire me what to say, and Jesus 
Christ will do the remainder. Seneca! Seneca! Rome, so 
rebellious now, shall bow her head ! She will be like a little 
child in God’s hand! Ere long, the Christians will be so 
numerous, that if they should go away, Rome would remain 
an immense desert !” 

“And I, dear Paulus,” said the philosopher, smiling, 

‘ * shall I be with you ?” 

“No, Seneca, you shall esteem my doctrine, but you will 
not embrace it. You will see in it but a fine system of 
philosophy from which you will draw new thoughts. Pos- 
terity will find in your works certain echoes of my words and 
of our sacred books ; but you will never go further.” 

“Why so, dear Paulus ? If your doctrine is the truth, I 
ask no better than to be numbered among your disciples.” 

‘ ‘ One cannot become my disciple as one would become the 
disciple of Plato, of Aristotle, or of the other philosophers. 
I have told you that my God does not reveal Himself to 
the superb and mighty, and to follow Jesus Christ who died 
on the cross, one must like Him carry his cross . . .” 

‘ ‘ The cross ! The slaves’ instrument of torture ! Indeed, 
my dear Paulus . . .” 


34 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ I am mad, think you, Seneca? This is what you were 
about to say ? Well, let it even he so, I am mad ! And it is 
this madness I want to teach in Rome, and which will 
triumph over Rome and over the whole world I” 

“Explain your meaning, dear Paulus, for I cannot 
comprehend you ! The cross, Jesus Christ, the Christians, - 
Rome, the Universe ! By Jupiter I what is all this T’ 

It would be impossible for us to render in all its magnifi- 
cence the inspired language of the apostle, to make the divine 
power felt, which flashed like the lightning in the darkness of 
the night. 

Paul first explained to the philosopher how, from a 
persecutor of the Christians, he had become one of the warmest 
advocates of the new religion. 

He made an admirable picture of that religion which, 
tracing its origin to the earliest times, had continued to 
live through centuries until the present time. 

He spoke of the Christ promised to the world, announced 
by the prophets and hailed by all the generations. He said 
how, the time being accomplished, Jesus had come in that 
poverty whieh He wished to honor on earth ; His divine 
teachings ; His miracles : His death on the cross ; His 
glorious resurrection ; the preaching of His apostles ; the 
good news spreading over the world, and, everywhere, the 
legions of Christ assembling to glorify Him. 

Raising the veil of the future, he showed the temples 
crumbling down, philosophy vanishing before the Giospel, 
the old creeds destroyed, the nations of the earth embracing 
the cross, mankind forming one brotherhood, and Rome the 
queen of the world by Christ’s standard — not of that world 
about to perish, but of the whole earth renascent and 
regenerated ! 

A transfiguration had taken place in Paul ; his features 
were resplendent with apostolic light. 

Seneca listened in silent awe, crushed under those burning 
words which surpassed in sublimity all that he had ever 
dreamt. 

Without, all nature harmonized with this imposing scene, 
as though all must hush before God’s messenger. No noise 
disturbed the atmosphere ; all was wrapped in that solemn 
stillness which marks the mysterious hour when prayer ascends 
slowly to Heaven. 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


35 


A deep and silent pause followed the apostle’s prophetic 
words. 

“ Gallion is right,” said Seneca at last, “you are an 
admirable genius !” 

“ What matters I Seneca, it is my doctrine, not me, which 
you must admire !” 

“Have you not told me, but a moment ago, that I would 
not believe ? Why, then, have you come to me ? ” 

“ Because the time is near, when the religion of Christ 
would be for you a supreme consolation.” 

‘ ‘ What do you mean ? ” 

* ‘ Seneca, do you not think that a single word from 
Nero . = 

“ Ah ! Paulus, are you then a messenger of death ? ” 

‘ ‘ Seneca, Seneca ! Christ’s apostles bring life ; as for 
death, it is in the hands of God, He it is who sends it.” 

“So,” said the philosopher^ with a smile, “ it is a prophecy ; 
is the hour near ? ” 

“ Perhaps it is,” replied the apostle. 

“ So let it be, then, I do not fear death. I thank you for 
the warning.” 

“Seneca, believe in Christ! Ah! you may do so yet, 
notwithstanding what I have said.” 

“That is possible, my dear Paulus; I love all that is 
beautiful, and your doctrine is beautiful. But a philosopher 
must compare and reflect. I must take some time to decide. 
Come and see me again. You are friendly to me, my dear 
Paulus, and for my part I am inclined to love you. How I 
would wish to be of some service to you! But, as you see, I 
have now little credit.” 

“I thank you gratefully, Seneca; like yours, my time is 
marked, and no one, not even Nero, can change the designs 
of God. My hope is in Him, and I need no other protection. 
Farewell, Seneca ; in the name of the living God, think of 
what you have heard to-day.” 

The apostle left, his heart filled with bitter discourage- 
ment, for he saw that he had not conquered this soul for 
Jesus Christ. 

Seneca did not forget the apostle. He saw him again 
several times, and conversed with him on the same important 
subject. . But Seneca was one of those men on whom extreme 
civilization leaves an ineflaceable stamp. 


36 


AURELIA; OR, 


Marble is never more impenetrable than when the workman, 
according to the ancient saying : ‘ ‘ has passed his thumb 
over it,” to rub out the last and faint marks left by his chisel. 

Seneca possessed all the elegant finish of a fine statue. 
The philosophy of Christianity could not penetrate that pol- 
ished surface, upon which the philosophy of Greece and 
Home had scarcely made an impression. 

Nevertheless, he studied the Christian religion ; he heard 
Peter and Paul ; he read their epistles ; he enjoyed the first 
fragrance of this doctrine, which, like a beautiful flower, 
was blooming before his eyes. He did as all do, who admire 
the flower, but care not to know whence it came or why it 
blooms. He used it to adorn his own philosophy. 

He revised his works, and without modifying the original 
sense and plan, introduced in them new thoughts suggested 
by the sacred writings or by Paul’s epistles. 

Hence certain words and thoughts in Seneca’s works^ 
which astonish one, unless one knows whence he got them. 
But the truth never penetrated his mind. 

A few months after his first interview with Paul, Seneca 
was sitting at table, with his wife, Pompeia Paulina, and two 
friends, when a centurion presented himself bearing the 
fatal sentence. 

As a last favor, Nero permitted his old tutor to select his 
mode of death. 

Seneca caused his veins to be opened, but no blood came 
out. He took poison, but the drug had no effect on his worn 
out frame. He then ordered a hot bath to be prepared. 

As he stepped into it, he sprinkled a little water over his 
slaves, saying : 

“I make this libation to Jupiter liberator I” 

A groan was heard, and a voice called out ‘ ‘ Seneca ! 
Seneca ! ” 

The philosopher looked round : it was Paul hastening to 
make a last effort. 

It was too late ! The vapor of the bath deprived the 
doomed man of his senses, and soon after he expired. 

A deep sorrow could be read on Paul’s face, as he contemr 
plated the man he had sought to save. 

His mission was at an end, and turning his back upon the 
scene of desolation, the apostle went away, plunged in 
thought. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE' 


37 


CHAPTER VII. 

LIGHT PENETRATIN’G CHAOS. 

P AUL had soon to appear before Ciesar, to whom he had 
appealed. With a prince like Nero there could be no 
complication in judicial proceedings., and the apostle had little 
trouDle in clearing himself of the charges brought by the 
Jews, and which Nero could scarcely comprehend. 

What did Nero care about this quarrel between dying 
Judaism, aiid already glorious Christianity? He looked 
upon it as a question of local interest which did not concern 
him. 

But Nero was very curious, and Paul was an extraordinary 
man. All Home was talking of the wonders ho had per- 
formed in company with Peter. For, the two apostles while 
preaching the religion of Jesus Christ, had, in fact, proved 
His divinity by numerous miracles accomplished in His name. 
They had healed the sick ; made the- lame walk, the deaf 
hear and the blind see, they had brought the dead back to 
life. 

Nero, at that time, was giving the people sumptuous exhi- 
bitions, which he desired to make forever celebrated. A 
man had promised, like Icarius of old,. to rise, flying, to the 
clouds. This was Simon, the Magician, who strove by every 
means to rival the apostles, and to bring their mission into 
discredit, by claiming to perform the most wonderful acts, 
such as animating statues, changing stones into bread, flying 
in the air, and conjuring spirits. 

What a good fortune for Nero, what an attraction added to 
his public games, if these three men could appear there and 
struggle, under his eyes, for the pre-eminence in super- 
natural power ! All three are Jews ; what more simple than 
that he should be the judge between them I 

But miracles are not made to satisfy vain curiosity. So as 
Jesus Christ had refused to comply with Herod’s request that 
he should perform a prodigy, Paul replied to Nero that Simon 
would not triumph ; but he promised nothing marvelous. 

On the next day, Simon appeared in the amphitheatre. 
He was hailed with delight by the multitude, for his 
4 


38 


AURELIA i OR, 


popularity was great in Rome. The Senate had even had 
the baseness to erect his statue in the island of the Tiber, 
with this inscription : Simoni Deo Sancto ! 

Peter and Paul, present, but unobserved by the crowd, 
were praying to God that the spirit of falsehood should not 
gain a victory over the spirit of truth, and that this profancr 
of sacred things, this enemy of His name, should not appear 
before the people as possessing more power than they who 
had been clothed with Ilis strength, and were sent to con- 
found imposture. 

The Emperor having given the signal, Simon arose in the 
air, and, it is alleged, hovered awhile, over the amphitheatre. 

But, suddenly, he fell, hurled to the ground by the hand 
of God. 

He was picked up, crippled and bleeding ; and the people 
who had applauded him, now hooted him with derisive con- 
tempt. The magician would not survive his shame ; having 
been carried to a neighboring house, he threw himself from 
the casement, and dashed his brains out on the pavement. 

Nero was far from satisfied with the tragical adventure of 
the magician whom he had received at his court with much 
favor. But, if he entertained any resentment against the 
two apostles, he did not show it at that time. 

x\fter all, little did Peter and Paul care about Nero’s 
resentment. 

They returned to their apostolic labors; they lived, as they 
had done heretofore, by the work of their hands, amidst the 
holy Jewish women who had followed them to Rome, and 
who gave to their sex those admirable examples of charity in 
good works, of Christian poverty, of evangelical chastity, and 
of all the virtues which have since created so many heroines 
of Christian grace, love and devotion. 

Some of these women had never left the Virgin mother of 
Jesus Christ. Together with Saint John, they had followed 
her to Ephesus, where they had remained until her death, 
which, according to the general opinion, took place in the 
year 48. 

Since that time, they had successively removed to Rome, 
to join the apostles and assist them in propagating the 
Gospel. 

Meanwhile, the holy word became more and more fruitful. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


89 


and new Christians of all ranks, of all age and sex, came 
daily to increase the assembly of tho faithful. It was then 
that some uneasiness commenced to he felt concerning this 
new sect and its numerous proselytes — this superstition which 
threatened to take the place of the ancient creed, or, to 
speak with more exactness, the old religious habits of the 
Roman people. 

It was besides, a complete renewal of the social fabric ; an I 
some already foresaw in these recent doctrines the condemna- 
tion and final destruction of the institutions upon which 
Rome leaned, and which had hitherto constituted her strength. 
War was therefore declared against these detestable innova- 
tors who came to disturb the quiet in which, for ages past, 
Rome had slumbered, mistress and dominatrix of the 
universe. 

The first hostilities were commenced by the writers and 
sages who denounced “ for their odious acts, those Christians, 
whose chief, one named Christy during the reign of Tiberius 
was sentenced by Pontius Pilate to suffer the most infamous 
penalty.” 

These calumnies furnished Nero the pretext he needed to 
justify himself ‘ from the charge of having kindled the 
famous conflagration which, during six days, devoured Rome 
with such frightful intensity, that of the fourteen quarters 
composing that immense city, only four remained standing 
and intact. 

Nero, the perpetrator of this horrible act, to shield his own 
criminality, dared to accuse the Christians of it. This was 
the true and only cause of the first persecution. It was 
atrocious. The most barbarous and extraordinary tortures, 
says Tacitus, were invented for these Christians whose 
crimes had long designated them to the public hate ; and 
this went so far that the torturers felt pity for their victims. 

Saint Peter and Saint Paul both perished during this per- 
secution. Paul, the Roman citizen, was beheaded; Peter 
was crucified like Christ, but with his head downwards. 

The two apostles suffered martyrdom on the same day — 
29th of June, in the year of Christ, 67. 

Peter, prince of the apostles, was succeeded by Linus, who 
governed the Church during twelve years, as the second 
bishop of Rome. 


40 


AURELIA; OR, 


Linus was succeeded by Cletus or Anacletus, an Athenian 
by birth, and a disciple of Saint Peter, who had converted 
him. He governed the Apostolical See from the year 78 to 
the year 91. 

Clemens, (St. Clement of Home,) fourth bishop, therefore 
filled the chair of Saint Peter at the time our narrative 
commenced. 

He was of Jewish origin and a descendant of Jacob, from 
his mother’s side, for his father was Faustinus, a native 
Roman. We believe we do not err in affirming that he be- 
longed to that Clemens family, so numerous in Rome at that 
time, and which was a branch of the Flavia family, whence 
came Vespasian and his two sons. 

This more than probable hypothesis being admitted, 
Clemens, the head of the nascent Church and the represen- 
tative of Jesus Christ on earth, would have been the relation 
of Domitian, the High Pontiff, in whose person dwelt all the 
authority of paganism. 

The capital of the world, destitute of all religious faith, 
had become successively the centre of the most divergent 
philosophical doctrines, and of the most opposed creeds. 

Egypt had bequeathed to it her mysterious divinities ; 
Chaldea had sent her wizards and astrologers ; from the dis- 
tant countries of the East, Apollonius of Thyane had 
imported the philosophy of the Brachmans, the divinations 
of the IMagi, the Indian theogonies, and even the theories of 
the gymnosophists he had visited in Higher-Egypt and 
Ethiopia. 

Eastern customs had already penetrated into Rome, and 
her priests appeared in the solemnities of the sacrifices, 
wearing the Phrygian tiara, and surrounded with all the 
sacerdotal pomp of Armenia. 

The sacred books brought from Jerusalem had found 
public interpreters in Rome, where the Mosaic traditions 
were known to all. Quite recently, Josephus, a prisoner 
since Vespasian’s time, had roused public curiosity by his 
numerous writings, in which the Jewish antiquities were 
revealed. 

Gaul and Germany, represented by Velleda and Ganna, 
the two young priestesses, had made known the dogmas 
of Teutates and Odin, those northern divinities, upon whose 
altars our ancestors sacrificed human victims. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


41 


Finally, Christianity now loomed on the horizon, with the 
imposing cortege of its apostles, its first martyrs, its virgins, 
its venerable and holy women, whose words were instructions, 
whose acts were examples, whose whole life was a precept ! 

In appearance, the heathen divinities of ancient Rome 
remained in possession of the same prerogatives as of old. 
The temples were as sumptuous, and the ceremonies as 
magnificent as ever. Rut with all this outward show, there 
was no faith in the hearts — nothing but the force of habit, so 
difficult to change or destroy. 

Rome was encumbered with the statues of its gods, to such 
an extent, that Suetonius wrote that in this city, with its 
population of three millions, it was easier to meet a god than 
a man ; but the citizens, indifferent or sneering, walked 
amidst this inanimate multitude without giving them a thought 
or a look. 

Long before, Cicero in his treatise on the Nature of the 
Gods, had ridiculed this vain display of a gross, indecent or 
puerile religion, and ruined its power by affirming there was 
not a toothless old woman but who defied the anger of 
Olympus and laughed at the powerless bolts of its false 
divinities. 

The philosophers and mathematicians had continued this 
work of destruction, and had gone so far, that they had to be 
checked. In the year 805, (52 of Christ,) the Emperor 
Claudius had been compelled, for the second time, to drive 
them from Italy ; and, quite recently, (in 836, A.D. 83,) 
Domitian had decreed again their expulsion. 

The motives for both of these measures were identical : the 
astrologers, mathematicians, and philosophers were reproached 
with their declamations and controversies, before which no 
religious or social institution could exist. 

It was evident that a new creed must take the place of the 
ancient one, thus abandoned and condemned by public 
opinion; but thinking minds asked with anxiety, which, 
among so many religions proposed to the people, would finally 
rule in Rome ? 

As the benighted traveler scans the heavens to discover 
the star which will guide his steps, so did Rome, in her 
dismay, ask that a glimmer should light the horizon upon 
which her destinies should be written. 


42 


AURELJA; OR, 


This much desired light, uncertain at first, and unseen, 
then discovered and recognized, had suddenly burst on 
the dark recesses of that immense chaos ; and, singular 
contradiction ! whilst those who held it in their hands 
were denounced and persecuted, it was to this light that 
all eyes turned, that the secret aspirations of all tended. 

The people were not abandoning the insane creed of their 
ancestors, to follow Apollonius of Thyane, notwithstanding 
his wonders, or Glanna, notwithstanding her seductions ; but 
they ran to Christ, to the tortures which they must suffer in 
His name, to the more difficult self-denial whose long and 
secret but bitter trials they would have to endure. 

We find in the writers of that time, in the historians 
and poets, the visible proof of this gravitation of the Homan 
world towards Christianity. If was hailed as a hope, and 
accepted as a certainty ; in it were resumed the anxieties 
of the present, and the destinies foreseen in the future. 

Domitian looking around with fear, had ascertained that he 
was surrounded by Christians. In the ranks of the people 
were to be found innumerable disciples of Christ ; they filled 
the legions ; the Emperor’s palace, his own family could not 
be preserved from the alarming filtration of a sect which, 
penetrating everywhere, made its mysterious action felt 
in all ranks of society. 

The Emperor thought that the time had come when he 
must oppose with energy any enterprise against the religion 
of Rome and the empire ; in his double capacity of pontiff 
and prince, he resolved to guard against an invasion so 
formidable. 

He endeavored to restore the creed and revive the tradi- 
tions. He instituted new feasts, and placed himself personally 
under the protection of Minerva, goddess of arms and wisdom. 

But, at the same time, he gave Rome a deplorable example 
of folly and impious audaciousness. He proclaimed himself a 
god, and caused his own statue, cast in gold, to be placed in 
the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, the first temple in the world! 

The people saw with indignation this grand-son of a 
poor undertaker of public works daring to proclaim himself 
tlie equal of their ancient and most honored divinities ; 
and they understood all the better the greatness of Chris- 
tianity, where the idea of One God, eternal and infinite, made 
impossible such insane usurpation by a simple mortal. 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


43 


This moral anguish felt by Domitian, his incredible acts of 
madness, his attempts at religious restoration, were necessary 
to explain the cause of certain events. 

Thus in his terror of being despoiled of the empire by the 
sons of David, according to the popular prediction : “Those 
who come from Judea will become the masters of things ; 
such are the decrees of Fate he had sent an officer to Judea, 
to ascertain whether there still existed any descendant of 
that odious race, once despised but now the subject of his 
deepest anxieties. 

Thus, with a view to presenting to the people a great and 
terrible spectacle capable of reawakening the religious zeal of 
old^ he caused the G-rand- Vestal to be closely watched, with 
the hope of detecting her in some fault which would 
justify him in ordering her death with all the fearful display 
attending the punishment reserved for virgins who broke their 
vows ! 

Finally, his family being suspected of Christianity, this 
executioner of his own kindred, wanted to know what victims 
he could sacrifice to his fury, so that while, offering a 
memorable and bloody expiation to the gods, he would 
secure himself against any possible usurpation. 

Such were the designs of the Emperor when he departed 
from Rome to put an end to the war against the Dacians. 
It is no wonder, then, that his infamous gang of informers 
should use the greatest zeal and activity to satisfy him. 

We have seen that Armillatus and Palfurius Sora, both 
consular men, had been especially designated to watch 
Flavius Clemens and the two Flavius Domitillas. Marcus 
Regulus whilst undertaking to superintend the shameful 
mission of these two patricians, and trying also to discover 
whether the Emperor’s relatives were followers of Christ, had 
besides accepted the task of criminating Cornelia and Metellus 
Celer, whom he hated personally. 

Domitian attached great importance to the conviction of 
the Grand-Vestal. He regretted that he had lost the 
opportunies presented during the earlier part of his reign^ to 
proceed against several virgins of Vesta, and to recall to the 
strict fulfillment of their fearful obligations, those priestesses 
who had become relaxed in their duties, through the indul- 
gence of Vespasian and Titus. 


44 


AURELIA; OR, 


He had once already forgiven Cornelia. It is true that the 
accusation was based on the most vague suspicions. But the 
two sisters Ocellates and Yaronilla had been found guilty, and 
he had consented to let them chose their mode of death, and 
to banish their accomplices, whereas the former should have 
been buried alive, and the latter condemned to die under the 
lash of the pontiffs. 

It was indispensable that reparation should be made 
for such faults, and something done to compensate this 
indulgence. 

To this end Marcus Regulus employed all his industry. 
This worthy individual had admirably prepared his plan. 
By corrupting Boris, the divine Aurelia’s hair-dresser, and 
by cultivating the acquaintance of the confiding Palaestrion, 
he hoped to discover, at the same time, the relations existing 
between Metellus Celer and the Grand- Vestal, and the 
affiliation of Flavius Clemens and his family with the wor- 
shippers of Christ. 

But whilst Domitian was endeavoring to protect his throne, 
God sent before him the bishop Clemens, the prince of 
this new society, the supreme pontiff of the new Creed ! 

And whilst Marcus Regulus was seeking to discover the 
secrets of the divine Aurelia*’ s household, God was sending 
there the humble slave through who- a Christ was to be 
embraced with undying love 1 




Part Second — The Slave. 


CHAPTER I. 

HYMENEAL DISAPPOINTMENTS OP A VESPILLO. 

W E must ask the reader to throw a retrospective glance 
on certain events which transpired in the tonsorial 
establishment of the barber Eutrapeles, a few months previous 
to the incidents related in the second chapter of this book. 

Eutrapeles’ shop was one of the most elegant and fashion- 
able establishments of the kind in Rome, where they were 
quite numerous and generally well patronized. This shop, 
situated in the centre of the Forum, not far from the 
Graecostasis, had formerly belonged to Augustus’ barber, 
Licinius, whom Horace mentions in his Poetical Art. 

Eutrapeles who had inherited it from his father — himself 
a tonsor of merit — left nothing undone to make his shop 
worthy of the fame of its founder. He entertained probably, 
the secret hope that Homitian might confer upon him the 
dignity Licinius had received at the hands of Augustus, who 
made a senator of his barber. 

Licinius owed that distinguished honor less to personal merit 
than to the rare accomplishments of a magpie which he had 
taught to recite verses in praise of the Emperor. Eutrapeles’ 
great ambition was to possess a bird whose talents would 
obliterate the memory of his predecessor’s magpie. He 


46 


AURELIA; OR, 


succeeded, after several years of patient teaching, in training 
one whose incontestable superiority would have thrown 
Licinius into a fit of jealous despair. 

The magpie of this ambitious barber imitated with rare 
perfection, the human voice, the cries of animals, and even 
the sounds of instruments. Upon a sign from its master, it 
recited, with great accuracy, a pompous eulogy on Domitian. 
As a matter of course, Eutrapeles never failed to give the 
signal to his bird whenever a senator, a pontiff or some 
distinguished patrician came to entrust their heads into his 
skilful hands. 

The TrossuU, or dandies of that time, crowded the lucky 
barber’s shop ; and the matrons, the queens of beauty and 
fashion, never passed by without stopping their litter, their 
carpentum — the four wheel carriage exclusively used by 
matrons of high rank — or their light chariots, lined with 
silk and inlaid with ivory, which they drove, themselves, 
with skill and daring. Eutrapeles’ magpie was a great 
success. 

It must be admitted that the barber was an artist of 
uncommon merit. The beaux proclaimed him the first tonsor 
in Rome. When a Trossulus came out of his hands, he 
could show himself safely at the porticos or on the Appian 
way ; his head bore the seal of that supreme elegance which, 
at all times, has attracted the eyes and claimed the admiration 
of the crowd. 

The women found in Eutrapeles’ shop those thousand 
articles for their secret toilet which they would have sought 
in vain in the shops of Minucius’ portico, of the Villa-Puhlica , 
the Via Sacra or the Septa Julia, with their varied and rich 
assortments. 

No other tonsor could show such an abundant supply of 
false tresses and glossy curls, of every variety of shade, 
from the flaming red to the deepest black; nowhere else 
could such perfect teeth be found, whether of bone, or ivory, 
or extracted from the human jaw ; nowhere those pliable 
straps of leather, those aromatic pomades of bean-paste, 
destined to repair the ruins caused by time — the wrinkles, the' 
angular form, the toothless gums, or the head prematurely 
bald. 

When a matron, struggling against the inroads of age, 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


47 


applied to Eutrapeles to simulate with a sooty ointment of 
his own invention, her absent eye brows, and, to give new 
brilliancy to her eyes, she looked as if Venus herself had 
•traced the delicate black lines which added their favorable 
shadow to the rosy and fresh complexion drawn from the 
small alabaster and pewter pots, which the estimable trades- 
man sold for their weight in gold. 

Eutrapeles seemed to possess all the secrets of the Fortuna 
virilis, the goddess dear to the Roman ladies, because she 
concealed the defects of their beauty from the indiscreet eyes 
of the men. His shop was better attended than the two 
temples of this kind goddess, situated on the Palatine bridge 
and the Carmentales gate. 

But, amidst all these perfections, Eutrapeles had some 
slight faults : he was impertinent, vain and loquacious in 
the extreme. For these defects as well as for his qualities, 
he was without equal in the tonsorial fraternity. There was 
no news, political or private, no wedding or funeral, no 
scandalous story or kitchen gossip, that Eutrapeles did not 
know in all their particulars, and was not always ready to 
repeat to every new comer. 

Withal, there was a mystery in the life of this man, so 
jovial in appearance, so familiar and talkative. 

Almost every night, when Eutrapeles had sent away his 
numerous attendants and the robust Syrian girl — the only 
servant in this bachelor’s home ; when he was quite alone 
behind his closed shutters, he gave a preconcerted signal, 
and, immediately, a man slipped in through a door which he 
discreetly held ajar. Eutrapeles had long conversations with 
this man. 

Who was he, and what was said in these frequent inter- 
views ? The neighbors had tried to find out, but their 
curiosity had been invariably baffled. 

On the evening of the fifth day preceding the calends of 
January, 842, (28th of December, 841, for the Romans 
counted the days backwards,) and some time after the Satur- 
nalia, which commenced on the 16th, previous to said calends, 
(17th of December,) and lasted one week, Eutrapeles and 
his nightly visitor were sitting in the furthest end of the 
shop, according to their custom, and conversing in a subdued 
tone of voice, when a noise was heard at the door of the 
shop. 


48 


AURELIA; OR, 


The countenances of the two men expressed singular alarm 
and anxiety, but the familiar sound of a voice calling from 
outside, “Eutrapeles! Eutrapeles!” soon quieted their fears. 

“ It is Gurges, the Vespillo,” said the barber ; “he brings 
me certain articles of my trade, which I shall need for the 
gifts of the January calends. My lord Eegulus, have the 
goodness to step into this tepidaruim, (bath-room ;) this little 
affair will soon be settled.’’ 

Regulus disappeared behind the closet door, and Eutrapeles 
went to let Gurges in. He was struck with the wild expres- 
sion of the Yespillo’s features and the disorder of his dress. 

‘ ‘ Have you failed to bring the hair and the teeth I ordered ?” 
exclaimed the barber, whose first thought, like a good 
tradesman’s, was for the evil consequences likely to result 
from the Vespillo’s want of punctuality. 

The latter made no answer, but he threw at Eutrapeles’ 
feet six magnificent, long suits of hair, and a handful of 
freshly extracted teeth. 

“ Gurges, you are a great man!” cried the admiring 
barber. “ By Venus ! you are the king of Vespillos. Ah I 
Philoenis, Gellia, Lesbia, Marcella, Lydia, and Phyllis, how 
charming you will look when these tresses, plaited by my 
skilful hands, will adorn your heads. And you, Vetustilla, 
what an admirable set of teeth I will put between your rosy 
lips. But what is the matter with you, my poor Gurges ?” 

“Eutrapeles, I must speak to you,” said Gurges gloomily, 
but in a firm voice. 

“Impossible, my dear Gurges, impossible at this hour,” 
replied Eutrapeles, remembering Ilegulus’ presence. 

“I said I wanted to speak to you, and I shall speak,” 
repeated the vespillo almost in anger. “ The time is favor- 
able ; I selected it purposely.” 

“ Speak, then, Gurges, but be quick, for it is late, and I 
have but little time to give you,” replied the barber, who saw 
that the only way to get rid of the vespillo was to listen to 
him, and who hoped besides that the conversation would not 
be long. 

Caius-Tongilianus-Vespertinus-Gurges belonged to the 
worthy class of the agents of Libitina, the goddess of funer- 
als^ and his title of vespillo could be rendered in our language 
by that of “undertaker’s aid.” He was the son of Tongilia- 
nus, the master of ceremonies of the inexorable divinity. 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


49 


This dignity for nearly a century had been transmitted 
frcMi father to son, in the Tongliana family, and gave its 
chief the right of marching at the head of funeral proces- 
sions, preceded by lictors clad in mourning. 

Caius was only a vespillo ; but he would succeed his father , 
and when we have the prospect of a high rank, we are looked 
upon as somebody in this world, whatever be our present 
condition. 

Caius Tongilianus had taken the surname of Vespertinus 
as indicating his profession, exercised in the dark hours of 
the evening. Giirges was a glorious surname, the reward of 
his great deeds ; it meant a bold drinker who feared neither 
the number of the cyathi nor the depth of the amphorae. 

The business connections of Gurges and Eutrapeles will 
be easily understood. Eutrapeles was in constant need of 
hair for the head-dresses of the matrons, his customers, and 
of teeth for the repair of the dismantled jaws confided to liis 
care. 

Gurges alone could supply him with these indispensable 
articles of trade. His expert asssistants could strip a head 
of its hair as quickly as an Indian takes his fallen enemy’s 
scalp, and rob a jawbone of its masticating ornaments with 
the skill of a modern dentist. 

This industry was of course illegal ; and it was no easy 
matter to avoid the vigilance of the patrols appointed by the 
capital Triumvir to watch over the inviolability of the tombs. 
But Gurges managed things so skillfully, that he owed his 
surname of Vespertinus to the ability -with which he baffled 
the watchfulness of the police. 

Were the Roman ladies aware of the origin of those soft 
tresses, arranged so gracefully over their brow by the skillful 
hands of their maids ? We incline to a negative answer, for 
Eutrapeles was too gallant a tonsor, his delicacy of feeling 
was too exquisite, that he should frighten his charming 
customers with such revelations. 

Albeit, Gurges, who had not remarked the embarrassment 
and hesitation with which Eutrapeles had consented to listen 
to his confidences, took a seat, and made himself as comfort- 
able as possible, preparing, evidently, for a long conversa- 
tion. 

“Eutrapeles,” he began, in a solemn tone, “you 


were 


50 


AURELIA; OR, 


aware of my project of a marriage with Cecilia, the young 
girl who lives with her father, not far from the Maximus 
Circus, and in the vicinity of the temple of Yenus-Libitina, 
my favorite divinity I Well, by the Fates, the match is 
broken 

“Impossible, my dear Curges, impossible!’^ exclaimed 
the barber, who was remarkably fond of using this adjective. 

‘ ‘ And what may be the reason ? Has old Cecilius refused 
Ids consent?” 

“ Old Cecilius cannot oppose my marriage; he owes me 
ton thousand sestertii ; but it’s the little one who will no 
longer consent . . 

“ Had she ever consented ?” 

Gurges seemed to think the question impertinent. 

“ Let us not quarrel about words,” he remarked, “ since 
whether she had consented or no longer consents, amounts 
to the same thing.” 

“Well, my dear Gurges, how can you help that?” remarked 
Eutrapeles, who was anxious to end the conversation. 

“ How can I help that ? Is this the answer to be expected 
from a friend ? But, you careless tonsor, don’t you see that 
my ten thousand sestertii are lost, since Cecilius does not 
possess a ! And this is not it ! The little one loves 
another man ! Look you ?” he cried, striking with his fist 
the table near which they were seated ; “I can’t stand that, 
Eutrapeles ! Yes, by Atropos, Lachesis, Pluto and Proser- 
pina, I shall have revenge for this refusal !” 

Gurges was getting excited. The barber was growing 
impatient. 

“ Ah ! you are a Christian, a Jewess, and you do not want 
me for your husband II.. .” 

A noise like that of a person starting involuntarily, 
interrupted the angry Gurges. It came from the adjoining 
closet. 

‘ ‘ Eutrapeles, are we alone ?” asked the vespillo with 
alarm. 

“ Quite alone, friend Gurges,” replied the barber, hastily. 
“It is probably water falling in the bath-tub of the 
tepidarium. But, my amiable vespillo,” he continued, 
drawing his seat nearer, and evincing a sudden interest in 
his visitor’s story, “ you must try not to get into a passion, 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


51 


and not to go so fast. Come, Gurges, tell me the beginning of 
this love affair of yours, if you wish me to understand the 
case fully.” 

"‘It is a long story, Eutrapeles, and you are in such a 
hurry. But I shall ablDreviate.” 

‘ ‘ I cau always find time to listen to my friends when they 
are in trouble, Go on, my dear Gurges.” 

The vespillo commenced his story : 

" ‘ It is about a year since Cecilius who was a mere scribe 
in Saturn’s Treasury, was appointed collector of the taxes 
levied on those cursed Jews of the Capena gate — may the 
Hades receive them ! Cecilius removed to the neighborhood, 
and my father rented to him the small house we own near the 
3Iaximu3 Circus. You must know that Cecilius who is 
poorer than Thersites, has never paid us a single sesterce. 
On the contrary, it is my money which . . . but I must not 
anticipate. Cecilius had been a widower for several years ; 
he had but one daughter, the ungrateful Cecilia !” 

Here, the vespillo relieved his feelings by several long- 
drawn sighs, and resumed : 

“ Every morning, on my way to the temple of Venus Libi- 
tina, I would see her at her door, or at the window of her 
little ■cuhicidum. I would then make her a friendly sign, to 
which she would reply with a pleasant nod. Cecilia, my 
dear Eutrapeles, has seen three lustra and a half (seventeen 
years and a half.) She is so beautiful that none of your 
fiishionable matrons could compare with her. But, you 
have seen her, and you know that I do not exaggerate.” 

Eutrapeles nodded assent, and Gurges resumed : 

‘ ‘ I resolved to push things briskly and to marry Cecilia. 
My father raised some objection because she had nothing ; 
but I convinced him that all the troubles of married life 
come from the dowry (yeniunt a dote sagittce ;) and besides, 
he yielded to this great consideration, that a vespillo — I don’t 
know why — seldom finds a woman willing to marry him.” 

Gurges heaved four great sighs; two of regret for the 
past ; two of sadness for the gloomy future. 

“ Having obtained my father’s consent,” he continued, “ I 
called on Cecilius. You see, Eutrapeles, I was acting 
honorably. I spoke of marriage by confarreation, which 
gives the wife the title of matron, for I could not think of the 


52 


AURELIA; OR, 


coemption which looks so much like buying a woman^ or of 
the marriage by usage, which is hardly any better than 
concubinage. My future prospects are good enough^ our 
fortune is known ; I made these legitimate advantages appear^ 
and, to be brief, Cecilius was delighted^ and he accepted me 
for his son in law.” 

“ And what did Cecilia say ?” queried Eutrapeles. 

“ Cecilia said nothing;” acknowledged the vespillo. 

“ This was not giving you great hope,” remarked Eutra- 
peles. 

“ My good tonsor,” quote Grurges with a knowing air, “in 
such cases, women never reply anything.” 

“That may be,” replied the barber simply. “Proceed.” 

“Time is a great master, and in time I trusted to 
soften that rebellious heart. We come now to the period 
when Cecilius commenced borrowing money from me and 
seemed to forget that he was my father’s tenant. Yes^ 
through the fallacious hope I entertained that Cecilia was 
getting better disposed in my favor, and that Cecilius would 
soon be my father in law, I allowed myself to be coaxed out 
of several important sums! Eutrapeles, it is an infamy, a 
downright robbery !” cried Gurges in whom the remembrance 
of his ten thousand sestertii seemed invariably to rouse a 
violent storm. 

“My good friend,” remarked Eutrapeles who had some 
literary pretension; “Juvenal, whom you know, has pre- 
cisely addressed a fine epistle to Corvinus to console him 
for losing a like amount. You must read it, Gurges, those 
poets understand better than we do, how to pour balm on 
wounds.” 

“Finally,” resumed the vespillo, “I was under the 
charm, although I must admit that matters were not progress- 
ing much; this did not prevent me from circulating the 
report of my approaching marriage; for it seemed to me 
impossible that Cecilia should not make the promise so 
often announced by her father. You remember, Eutrapeles, 
that I confided to you my hopes.” 

“Certainly, Gurg^d, I cannot have forgotten it, but 
amidst all these detafe, it seems to me you have forgotten 
something very essential.” 

‘ ‘ What is that, my dear tonsor ?” 

“You should have questioned Cecilia herself.” 


THE JEWS OF CATENA GATE, 


53 


I failed not to do so. Eutrapeles, but I obtained this 
answer, that my name — Gurges —did not suit her, and my 
trade of vespillo still less.” ‘ 

“ Then, my friend, the game was lost.” 

“ Young girls are so capricious, Eutrapeles. They desire 
to-morrow what they refused to-day.” 

“Agreed. But out of prudence, you should have held 
on to your sestertii until the matter was settled.” 

“ I had already given them away, Eutrapeles.” 

“ Was Cecilia aware of this ?” 

“Not at all. When Cecilius borrowed money from me, 
he always said : ‘ do not mention it to my daughter.’ And 
Cecilia, when I wished to make her some slight presents, 
sent them back, saying she could not accept anything from 
me.” 

‘ ‘ But,” said Eutrapeles, who wished to bring back the 
conversation to the essential point from which it was diverg- 
ing ; “ you said something just now about Jews and Chris- 
tians. What does it mean ? Are these people in any way 
connected with the disappointment you have suffered ?” 

“Undoubtedly,” replied Gurges; “that’s the crowning 
piece ! The wretches ! This is the way the thing happened. 
Cecilius was in earnest; at least, I think so, for he was 
singularly flattered by the prospect of his daughter’s marriage ; 
it secured quiet comfort for his old age. He does not spare 
Cecilia, whom he calls rebellious and impious, and whose 
new superstition he says is infiimous, and he wants to crush 
it. Cecilius is quite as angry as I am. The moro so, as lie 
would lose his place if it should be discovered. . . Tou 

understand?” 

“Perfectly. But to the point, G-urges, to the point! 
Semper ad eventum festina, hasten towards the event.” 

“ I am coming to it, Eutrapeles. But, in order to make 
things clear, I have to go into so many particulars. But I 
shall be brief. Here is the conversation I had yesterday — it 
is recent, as you see — with Cecilius ; the catastrophe was not 
long following it. Tired with all those delays, I went, yes- 
terday morning, to see Cecilius : 

‘ Is your daughter here ?’ I asked. 

‘ No, Gurges, she has gone to the Forum pistorium'^ (the 
bread -market.) 

5 * 


54 


AURELIA; OR, 


‘ Cecilius, are you aware that your daughter never remains 
at home during your absence ? Where does she go V 

‘ My dear Gurges, she goes most of the time to the Pala- 
tine, to see a matron of high rank, who protects her, and 
whose name is Flavia Domitilla.’ 

“ Look you, Eutrapeles, we are not alone here !” exclaimed 
Gurges, who had heard again a noise in i\iQtepidariuin. “I 
must see . . 

The vespillo was rising to ascertain the cause of the 
noise, but Eutrapeles persuaded him once more that it was 
only the water flowing into the bath-tub. 

Gurges appeared satisfied with the explanation, and 
resumed : 

‘ You are sure of this V I asked Cecilius. 

‘ Perfectly sure, Gurges. IVIy daughter goes there with 
an old woman named Petronilla, who lives there, near the 
Capena gate. What will you ? My duties keep me away 
all day, and Cecilia must take some recreation. She has no 
mother to stay with her.’ 

‘ ‘ Certainly,” I replied, somewhat soothed. Then I added : 

‘ Well Cecilius, has she made up her mind yet?’ 

‘No, Gurges, I am sorry to say that she seems to give 
little thought to what is the object of my daily entreaties.’ 

‘ It is evident she has not reflected enough upon marriage. 
Cecilius, an idea has suggested itself to my mind. What 
if we were to place your daughter under the influence of 
the little god Jugatinus f 

‘It is a marvelous good thought, dear Gurges !’ 

‘ We shall fix a sacellum (a little chapel) in her cubiculuTH.^ 

* Have you a little god Jugatinus?’ 

‘ I bought one,, yesterday, in the Triumphal way ! And I 
showed to Cecilius a small statue of the little god, which 
I had brought concealed in my tunic. It was gilded, crowned 
with flowers, ornamented with small bands of yellow — the 
color of Hymen. ‘Suppose we carry out our project im- 
mediately,’ I added. ‘When Cecilia returns, she will see 
the sacellum, and perhaps the little god will begin to operate, 
for she will naturally think that I alone could have had 
the idea of this delicate attention.’ 

‘ Nothing easier, my dear Gurges ! But let us make 
haste, for Cecilia will soon return for the jentaculum 
(breakfast).’ 


TEE JEW8 OF CAP ENA GATE. 


55 


‘‘We went iip to Cecilia’s cubiculum,” continued Gurges, 
“and penetrated into that sanctuary, until then forbidden 
to me.” 

Here the vespillo would have willingly expatiated on all 
his impressions, and had in fact commenced describing his 
tender emotion at the sight of Cecilia’s virginal retreat, when 
Eutrapeles, who was anxiously expecting the conclusion, 
interrupted him : 

“ Gurges ! Gurges !” he said affectionately, “ it is getting 
late, my good friend. I understand your feelings — but let 
us make haste ; what happened next ?” 

“We had just done arranging the sacellum, when we 
heard Cecilia’s voice — as sweet as Philomela’s ! She was 
coming up to her cubiculum. We withdrew quickly^ for we 
wished to enjoy, unseen, her surprise and to observe her 
countenance. Ah ! Eutrapeles, how shall I relate what 
followed!” 

“ Courage, Gurges, courage, my friend !” said the tonsor 
who saw the catastrophe coming. • 

“ Cecilia, as soon as she came in, discovered Jugatinus, 
and seizing it : — I remember those incredible words — ‘An idol 
in my room I’ she cried, and the little god, hurled through the 
window, was broken to pieces on the strefet pavement I 

‘Daughter! daughter! What are you doing?’ exclaimed 
.Cecilius, who sprung forward, but too late, to prevent 
the rash act. ‘Wretched girl, it is a sacrilege !’ 

‘ Ah ! father, you were there ! and you also, Gurges !’ said 
she, recognizing me. ‘ I understand now ! Well, so be it. 
The time has come when the truth must be known. Father, 
I am a Christian ; and as a Christian, it was my duty to act 
as I have done ! Gurges, she added, turning to me, ‘cease 
to persecute me with your love, I can never be your wife.’ 

“ I was overwhelmed,” the vespillo continued ; “I Avould 
live to be as old as Nestor, that this imposing, solemn scene, 
would remain green in my memory. Cecilia was calm, 
serene, so majestic, and, at the same time, so inflexible in 
her resolve, that I could not find a single word of entreaty. 
As for Cecilius, his anger was fearful to behold. He cursed 
his daughter, and I was compelled to hold him back, or he 
would have killed her. But he swore that Cecilia should 
renounce this infamous superstition, or that he would invoke 


56 


AURELIA; OR, 


the law, and use all the authority of an offended father. The 
poor man saw misfortune and dishonor before him. Known 
as the father of a Christian, he must doubtless lose his office, 
the only resource of his old age.” 

‘ Ah ! Cecilia!’ he exclaimed, after this terrible outburst 
of anger had subsided, ‘it is those Jews of Capena gate who 
have ruined you 1 I should have watched over you more 
carefully, and not permit you to keep company with that old 
Petronilla,’ 

These last words were for me as a ray of light. I 
hurried away to follow the threads of this infamous web by 
which a father was robbed of his child, and I of the only 
treasure I had ever wished to possess. I know all, Eutrape- 
les I It is but too true 1 Cecilia is a Jewess. That old woman, 
Petronilla, has perverted her. She and a matron of high 
rank, Flavia Domitilla, the emperor’s relation, have inveigled 
her into this superstition. And I, I am only Gurges, the 
vespillo ; an odious being, forsaken and scoffed at, who has 
paid his shame ten thousand sestertii ! O vengeance ! 0 

Furies ! What shall I do, Eutrapeles ?” 

The question was asked in a tone of the deepest despond- 
ency. Eutrapeles seemed to reflect. 

“ Friend Gurges,” he said at last, ‘^this is a very serious 
matter ; but I shall come to your assistance, doubt it not. 
However, I shall require a few days of reflection. I see a 
means, but it must be used with prudence on account of 
Flavia Domitilla. We shall work things right. It is very 
late ; go home, my friend, and leave me the care of your 
vengeance.” 

The tone in which this was said was so earnest, so full of 
assurance, that Gurges doubted not that he had found a 
powerful auxiliary. He allowed himself to be gently led out 
of the shop by the crafty barber, who, replying to his sup- 
plications by renewed promises of assistance, bade him good 
night, and closed the door upon him with great carefulness. 

When Eutrapeles returned to the end of the shop where 
he and Gurges had had the interesting conversation we have 
narrated, he found Regulus waiting. 

“ Well, my lord?” said he. 

“By Hercules! Eutrapeles, this is wonderful luck. At 
the very start I am on the track of those Christians of whom 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


57 


I was speaking to you when the vespillo came in, and 
who give so much uneasiness to the divine Domitian. This 
little girl will be very useful to us, we shall know everything 
through her.” 

“ You have your plan ?” 

“Certainly, Eutrapeles. Whilst listening to your con- 
versation, certain ideas have suggested themselves to my 
mind. In the first place it is necessary that the vespillo 
should get back his ten thousand sestertii, and that his 
claim against Cecilius should pass into my hands. I shall 
have a hold on him by this means, and by making him 
uneasy, besides, about his situation, I shall lead him to do 
what I please. To-morrow you will have the money — see 
that the transfer is made without delay. Ah ! whilst I 
think of it, in order to remain free in our movements, we 
must use the name of a third party. I shall make him 
known to you in good time. As for the girl, we shall 
see what is to be done ; I shall attend to it. With a 
little care, prudence and precision, your promise to the 
vespillo will be fulfilled without giving yourself the least 
trouble. Good night.” 

And Regulus, leaving the tavern, was soon lost in the 
darkness which filled the streets of Rome. As Eutrapeles 
closed his door, a hopeful smile illumined his features ; 

“Who knows,” he thought; “but that this matter 
will result in securing for me the senatorial purple with 
which the divine Augustus rewarded my predecessor, 
LiciniusI” 



58 


AURELIA; OR, 


CHAPTER II. 

THE CRYPT OF LIBITINA’s WOODS. 

C ECILIUS was an old freedmau who had purchased his 
freedom with the patiently accumulated proceeds of his 
daily savings on the diarium or ration of wheat, granted to 
the slaves hy their masters. 

He was nevertheless a Roman citizen, for he had stipulated 
the great manumission which conferred upon the freedman 
the same rights as his former owner enjoyed. 

V After passing forty years in bondage, Cecilius had found 
himself, at last, master of his own person, and at liberty to 
carve his own fortune; but, for a long time, his change 
of condition had only brought him the misfortune and hard 
trials which were the share of the weak in a society where 
public compassion — this Christian and modern virtue — did 
not exist. 

In fact, the only assistance tendered disdainfully to the 
poor — not to console, but rather to debase them still more 
and to keep them in perpetual dependence — consisted in the 
sportule or the panariolum, that is, alms of a trifling amount, 
or rations of inferior food, ostentatiously distributed by the 
nomenclators of the patrons to the tumultuous crowd of 
clients assembled at the door of their sumptuous mansions. 

In his capacity of freedman, Cecilius remained the client of 
his former owner, and he had had to earn the sportule by 
continual acts of cringing meanness — the usual price of these 
parsimonious liberalities. Such necessities cannot redeem 
the soul debased by slavery, and do not prepare man for the 
exercise of that dignity w'hich he may need in certain 
circumstances of his life. 

Cecilius, a freeman and a citizen, ^had remained a slave 
at heart. To satisfy his selfish instincts, this man would 
have sacrificed, if necessary, the dearest and most sacred 
objects of his affection; and to conquer the enjoyments of 
life, for which he thirsted, would not have stopped before an 
abject or guilty action. 

The manner in which he had encouraged the hopes of 
Gurges, and the loans he had obtained from him through 


THE JEWS OF CAP EE A GATE. 


59 


the promise of his daughter’s early consent, at a time when 
he was certain of her opposition to the match, have abeady 
induced the reader to form a poor opinion of his honesty. 

Albeit, a somewhat extraordinary circumstance had brought 
a sudden and important improvement in the freedman’ affairs. 
He had saved the life of the consul Afranius Dexter, by 
protecting him from the fury of one of his freedmen who 
attempted to murder him. The consul, in his gratitude gave 
his rescuer a wife, a dowry, and the lucrative office of scribe 
in Saturn’s treasury. 

Cecilia was born in the first year of this marriage, and her 
childhood had been much neglected. Her mother died while 
she was yet in her infancy, and her father, from his habits, 
his instincts and his character, was ill-suited for the task 
of devotion and tender solicitude, imposed by a young girl’s 
education. 

But the gods, as certain friends of the family ingenuously 
observed, had protected Cecilia. She was remarkable for her 
splendid beauty, and, what is better, for the charms of her 
intellect, her candor, and those gifts which distinguish superior 
natures. With exquisite good sense and rare wisdom, she 
had promptly understood the necessities of the solitary life 
to which fate had condemned her, and she had provided for 
them without asking of her father efforts and sacrifices 
of which she knew him incapable. 

Thus, she had availed herself of every opportunity of 
acquiring instruction, and her education, due only to her own 
unaided efforts and perseverance, was so complete for a girl 
of her humble condition, as to cause astonishment. 

To her care were due the comfort of her father’s modest 
household, and the little enjoyments which Cecilius, ever 
miserly when useful expenses were concerned, and foolishly 
prodigal when he sought to gratify his desires, would have 
never tasted but for the tender solicitude of the amiable 
child. 

Cecilia’s poetical soul found great charm in the graceful 
fictions of mythology, and she took pleasure in participating 
in the ceremonies of certain feasts, and in mingling her pure 
voice with those of the young girls who, clad in white tunics 
and crowned with flowers, sang sacred hymns in the proces- 
sions. But she could not understand the shameless indecency 


GO 


AURELIA; OR, 


of those other ceremonies where all restraint was lost, and the 
gods were honored by the most licentious revels. 

On such occasions she would remain at home, thoughtful 
and dissatisfied ; struggling between the long cherished 
superstitions of paganism, and the vague presentiment of a 
more perfect creed. 

When her father left the treasury to fill the post of collector 
of the tax on Jews, and moved into the house rented from 
Tongilianus, the undertaker of funerals, in the neighborhood 
of Venus-Lib itina’s temple, the quiet happiness in which she 
had lived was disturbed. 

The exigencies of the fiscal oiB&ce filled by her father were 
to her a source of constant regret. She mourned over the 
fate of those poor families pitilessly prosecuted for the least 
delay in the payment of the tax ; and although they were 
Jews — a despised, odious people — she could be met frequently 
visiting the wretched cabins scattered about the Libitina 
woods and the vicinity of the Capena gate, to assist the 
women, children and old men who had been the victims 
of Cecilius’ fiscal rapacity. 

“Why did my father accept an office which compels 
him to make other people unhappy ?” she thought, with 
bitterness; and she tried to persuade him to resign, or, 
at least to deal more gently with the delinquent tax-payers ; 
but, notwithstanding her great influence over Cecilius, the 
latter, who could not understand that any one should feel an 
interest in such beggars, was little inclined to give up a 
salary which was his only means of support, or to stay 
proceedings out of mere compassion. 

The vespillo’s attentions became a new source of sorrow for 
Cecilia. Not that she was unwilling to change a condition 
the duties of which were burthensome. Often, in her girlish 
dreams, she had thought of some loved companion, whose life 
she would embellish with her tender care ; more than once 
she had prayed to her favorite divinities for that unknown 
being, whom she artlessly hoped to see appear suddenly 
before her. 

But the much desired apparition was anything but charm- 
ing under the coarse features and the mourning toga of our 
friend Gurges. Cecilia, at first, had not taken the slightest 
notice of the enamored vespillo; and when he had grown 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


61 


bold enough to avow his love, her delicate and refined nature 
revolted at the very thought of a marriage which she deemed 
impossible. 

An incident occurred, meanwhile, which, changing her 
whole life, filled her heart, and gave a new direction to 
the vague thoughts that had so often disturbed her peace of 
mind. 

In one of her rambles in the Jewish quarter, she had met 
a poor old woman, bed-ridden by disease, and wanting the 
most common necessaries of life. The kind young girl was 
deeply moved; and, obeying the generous impulses of her 
heart, she had become a devoted nurse to the old Jewess, 
bringing her medicine and food, and ministering daily to her 
wants. 

One evening, she was seated by the sick woman’s bed-side, 
holding her withered hand in hers, and talking hopefully 
of the improvement she had found in her condition, wiien a 
voice, trembling with emotion, uttered these words close to 
her ear : 

“May Heaven bless you, 0 gentle maiden, who have 
taken care of my mother and have relieved her whilst her son 
was away !” 

The young girl turned her head. A young man wearing 
the saguin or military cloak, with the breast-plate, the 
buckler and shining helmet, was bending over her. 

Cecilia started, and could not restrain a cry. She averted 
her eyes, and stood, blushing, and trying to collect her 
thoughts. She could not realize the import of the stranger’s 
wordsi 

The old woman had risen from her bed, and clasped 
the young man in her arms : 

“ It is my son,” she cried, “ my son who has been returned 
to me ! Oh ! yes, dear Olinthus, well may you bless 
this young girl, for, but for her kindness you should not have 
found your mother alive !” 

Suddenly, the sound of grave voices united in a pious 
chant, filled the room. These voices coming from under 
ground seemed to ascend to heaven. 

Olinthus remained thoughtful. A struggle was taking 
place within him. Turning at last to Cecilia : 

“Come,” lie said; “the holy mysteries have begun, 

6 


62 


AURELIA; OR, 


and you are worthy of entering in the assembly of the faithful. 
Mother, I will soon return. I am going to ask God to repay 
our debt of gratitude to this young girl.” 

Cecilia was astonished, but she felt that far from having 
anything to fear, she could have full confidence in the 
young soldier She put her little hand in his, and followed 
him. 

After walking some distance in the dark, they came to the 
head of a subterranean flight of steps. 

“Take care,” said Olinthus to the young girl; “my 
brethren are there ; you will be directly in their midst. 
Fear nothing.” 

Cecilia descended until, at the bottom of the steps, her 
eyes were suddenly dazzled by a bright light. 

She had reached the sacred precinct. It was the crypt of 
the ancient temple of the Muses, which the Christians had 
discovered, and in which they assembled to praise God, to 
listen to the instructions of the pontiffs and to celebrate 
the holy sacrifices. 

By the light of the lamps which hung from the ceiling, 
Cecilia saw a numerous crowd, kneeling, and singing the 
hymns she had heard from above. 

To the left were the women : Olinthus led Cecilia among 
them and crossed over to the right where the men were 
praying. 

The women gave Cecilia the kiss of peace, and made room 
for her. 

At the further end of the crypt, on a little higher ground, 
was a table around which stood the pontiffs clad in flowing 
white, garments. Upon the table was a cross, a few candles 
made of the purest wax, small loaves of bread, and vases 
containing wine. 

The songs ceased, and a deep silence reigned. A venerable 
old man stepped forward, near the table, and beckoned to 
the others to sit down. He wore a white garment like 
the other pontifi*s, but with some mark of distinction to show 
that he was the first among them. 

The old man commenced by inviting the people to elevate 
their minds towards God^ and when the crowd had replied 
“ Amen,” he said : 

“ My brethren, we have received a letter from John, the 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


G3 


only one of Christ’s apostles who still lives. He advises 
us that he will soon be among us.” 

A suppressed exclamation from all these men and women 
showed with what joy this news was received. 

"‘My brethren,” resumed the old man, “the beloved 
disciple, in his letter, sends you but one recommendation : 
Charity in Jesus Christ, the love of justice. Love yc one 
another, have together but one heart and one soul, and 
you will fulfil the law. Such are the words by which, in 
ending his letter, he confirms you in the faith of the Word of 
Life. Yes, my brethren, love ye one another in poverty, 
in misfortune, in suffering ; let each of you sustain the weak, 
comfort the afflicted, relieve the poor, and he shall live ! 
And now,” added the venerable speaker, “ let the new 
catechumens be brought forward. 

Four persons, a man, a woman and two youths were 
brought forward and conducted to the priest. It could be 
easily seen that the four belonged to the same family. 

“ Flavius Clemens,” said the old man, addressing he who 
appeared the chief of this family ; " ‘ one of our sisters in 
Jesus Christ, your aunt Fla via Domitilla, has informed us 
that you wished to be received in the grace and faith of 
the true Hod, together with your wife and your two sons. 
Ho you, do they persist in this resolution ?” 

‘ ‘ Yes, Anacletus,” replied Flavius Clemens ; and those 
who were with him, repeated: “ We persist!” 

“ Flavius, you are great before the world and, with your 
wife, the nearest relative of the Emperor. Your two sons 
are Caesars, that is, destined to rule the universe. This 
greatjiess, these lofty hopes, you may have to sacrifice 
them to your new faith. Will you do it and will these 
children do it ?” 

“ We will 1” cried the four neophytes with one voice. 

* ‘ Will you give up even your lives ?” again asked the 
pontiff. 

“ Even our lives!” they responded, with holy enthusiasm. 

Anacletus made the sign of the cross on the forehead 
of the neophytes, and went through the ceremony of the 
imposition of hands, to receive them as catechumens. lie 
then informed them that before they could be admitted to the 
baptism of the faithful, they must be instructed in all the 


64 AURELIA; OR, 

mysteries and live in the strict practice of all the precepts of 
the religion of Christ. 

Then, addressing the people: “My brethren,” said the 
pontiff, ‘ ‘ recollect yourselves ! now is the time of the holy 
communion ! we are going to break the bread of life and 
to drink the chalice of salvation.” 

All the Christians prostrated themselves, touching the 
ground with their foreheads. 

The priest raised his hands ; he then elevated the vases 
containing the wine, and pronounced certain words, in a low 
voice which did not reach Cecilia’s ears. 

Then, those who surrounded the pontiff, that is the deacons, 
went amidst the faithful who received from their hands 
fragments of the consecrated bread, and drank from the same 
chalices. 

After this distribution, they gave each other the kiss of 
peace, and remained plunged in religious ecstasy. 

No sound was heard except the whispering of prayers and 
the smothered sighs which accompany tears of emotion. 4*. 

Cecilia could not understand what she saw ; she felt, 
however^ that an important religious act was being accom- 
plished. 

A deacon offered her some of the bread and wine of which 
all the women around her had partaken. She declined, 
for she felt that she was not worthy of touching the sacred 
food, or of wetting her lips in the blessed cup. 

The deacon, surprised at her refusal, inquired whether she 
was not one of the faithful. 

She replied that she was the daughter of Cecilius. 

A subdued rumor among those who heard the answer, 
expressed the surprise it caused. No one could understand 
how she had penetrated into the assembly of the saints. 

The deacon hastened to inform the pontiff, who raised 
his voice to ask if any one had infringed the rules of 
the mysteries by bringing this heathen to witness them. 

Olinthus came forward. 

“ This young girl,” he said, “ is the same who, for some 
time past, has been visiting our poor homes, to relieve 
our brethren’s sorrows and to dry their tears. To her, 
my mother — poor, old Eutychia — owes her life ; and when, 
but a while ago, I found her near my mother’s bedside, 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


65 


it seemed to me that Grod inspired me to lead her to 
Him. She is already our sister by her charity ; and I 
feel confident that she will soon be so by her faith.” 

“ You have done right, Olinthus^ and I absolve you,” said 
the pontiff. “ This maiden is not unknown to us ; we have 
heard of her kindness to our brethren. In the name of Christ, 
we bless her 1” 

An aged woman then approached Cecilia. 

“ Child,” she said, “you are worthy of knowing the God 
we serve ; He visited you, when He gave you compassion and 
love for those who suffer. Come with me, I shall teach you 
His law.’^ 

The language of this venerable women was gentle and 
caressing ; her words went to Cecilia’s heart. 

The mysteries being over, the crowd retired slowly, and 
Cecilia followed the poor woman, who held her affectionately 
by the hand. The amiable girl felt as if she were dreaming ; 
she could not fathom the meaning of all she had heard 
and seen. But her heart was deeply moved, and ineffable 
thoughts filled her mind. 

She seemed to recognize those words of peace, union 
and love to which she had listened — her truth-seeking 
soul had lisped them long ago ; those sacred songs had for her 
a meaning ; she understood those men and women, now 
silent and collected, then uniting their voices in prayer : they 
honored divinity better than all those she had seen daily 
in the ceremonies of her pagan creed, and in the temples 
of Home. 

Then, that consular citizen, that illustrious matron, those 
two young men, proclaimed Caesars — all those worldly honors 
despised, and death preferred to life — had filled her soul 
with admiration and astonishment. 

They had reached another part of the crypt and a new 
spectacle offered itself to Cecilia’s eyes. 

“ Take a seat by me, my dear child,” said her aged com- 
panion. 

Two long tables, placed parallelly, ran nearly the whole 
length of the subterranean room. They were covered with 
the simplest articles of food; bread, eggs, milk, a few dishes 
of meat, and fruit. 

The men went to one of the tables, over which the pontiff 
6 * 


66 


AURELIA; OR, 


who had celebrated the mysteries, presided, seated on a stool 
a little higher than the rest. 

The old Jewess who accompanied Cecilia, took a similar 
seat of honor at the head of the women’s table. 

The pontiff stood up and blessed the food ; and all pro- 
ceeded to eat. The conversation, carried on in a low voice, 
became general and characterized by a friendly effusion 
mingled with reserve. 

“ These are our agapae or feasts of charity,” remarked the 
old woman to Cecilia ; “we have them always after the holy 
mysteries, in order to tighten the bonds that unite us, and to 
remind us that permitted pleasures, or necessary pain, all 
must be in common between us.” 

Cecilia noticed that this old woman who spoke to her with 
the tenderness of a mother, was the recipient of great marks 
of respect from all those present. Even the pontiff had 
bowed low when she passed near him. 

It was, also,- with no little astonishment that she saw Fla- 
vius Clemens and his two sons waiting humbly on the men, 
whilst his wife and another matron, whose appearance indi- 
cated her high rank, filled the same office at the women’s 
table. She remembered the Saturnalia, where the masters 
became the servants of their slaves, and the Matronalia during 
which the Roman ladies abdicated temporarily their pride 
to become dependent on their inferiors ; but she had never 
heard that the consuls and their wives, and the heirs to the 
empire had ever submitted to such trials. 

The old Jewess seemed to read her young companion’s 
thoughts : 

“My dear child,” she said, “ among us the greatest must 
yield to the smallest. Our God humbles the mighty and 
exalts the weak. It is because I am the weakest and poorest 
of all that they do me honor. They also respect in me the 
daughter of the apostle whom Christ made the corner-stone 
of His Church. I am Petronilla, the daughter of Peter, the 
Chief of the Apostles, who was chosen because he was only 
an humble fisherman. Some day you will understand all 
these things, my child. Remember my name, and whenever 
you feel the wish, come to me, for I love you.” 

“ And now,” she added, “I shall put you under the care 
of this matron, who will take you to your father’s house, for 
it is late and we are going to separate.” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


67 


What was Cecilia’s astonishment, when Petronilla beckoned 
to Flavia Domitilla, and placed her, the humble plebeian 
girl, under the care of the Emperor’s cousin. 

She left the crjpt with Flavius Clemens, the two young 
Caesars, and that other matron whose imposing mien had 
struck her. 

At a hundred paces from the entrance to the cave, litters 
were in waiting. The torches of the runners lighted the 
darkness of Libitina’s woods; and the slaves hastened to 
execute the orders of their masters. 

Here, all the apparel of power; all the splendors of 
wealth ! And, but an instant ago, poverty, abasement, 
equality with the humblest ! Well might the bashful and 
artless girl believe herself fascinated by a dream ! 

“Young maiden, come with me into this litter,” said 
the unknown matron. 

And, as Cecilia hesitated, scarcely believing that this 
invitation could be intended for her, the matron added : 

“ What, my child, are you so proud that you refuse 
Flavia Domitilla ?” 

“Are you, then, also a relation of the Emperor?” the 
young girl asked, with lively curiosity. 

“ Yes, dear child,” replied Flavia, smiling at her eager- 
ness. Come, get in, we shall soon make each other’s 
acquaintance.” 

Cecilia obeyed. The cortege moved, and was not long 
reaching her father’s residence. Cecilius was very uneasy, 
not knowing what had become of his daughter. But when 
he saw her return in such illustrious company, and when 
Flavius Clemens had spoken a few words to him, he was 
so delighted, that he thanked all the gods he knew by 
name, and forgot to question his daughter as to the cause of 
her delay. With the protection of these great people, 
his fortune was assured ! 

Sleep did not visit Cecilia’s eyes during that night. What 
she had witnessed and heard on that eventful evening, 
filled and confused her mind. 


68 


AURELIA; OR, 


CHAPTER in. 

CHRISTIAN ESPOUSALS. 

C ecilia on the following days returned frequently to see 
Petronilla, the holy woman, whom she soon learned to 
love dearly, and to whose teachings, lavished with inexhausti- 
ble solicitude, she listened with increasing interest. 

She also often saw Eutychia, who called her daughter, 
and Olinthus who gave her the sweet name of sister ; and 
had long conversations with them. They continued Petro- 
nilla’s work by teaching her the religion of Christ, and 
fortifying her in her nascent faith. 

With such teachers and under the influence of such 
examples, the pure-minded girl conld not be long in renouncing 
the lying fictions which she already secretly despised, and 
which she now rejected with horror. In a few months 
she became truly a Christian in heart, aspiring only to 
the grace of baptism, and rapt in joys as sweet as they 
were new to her. 

“ What a blessing !” she would exclaim ; “ that I should 
at last see the truth, I who have been so long without 
knowing it, and who yet sought it with all my soul !” 

She had become the darling child of this whole poor tribe 
of exiles; all knew her and surrounded her with marks 
of the liveliest affection. 

It seemed as though these poor people vied in repaying in 
love for the daughter, the miseries and sorrows caused by the 
father. For, Cecilius who was not aware of the tie existing 
between his daughter and the J ews, was as pitilessly exacting 
as ever, and continued to spread desolation and ruin in 
the poor colony. 

Cecilia was deeply moved by the tenderness with which all 
greeted her. If she understood that Christianity dictated this 
pardon and forgetting of injuries caused by her family, 
she felt still more the power of that charity which inspired 
love by way of retaliation. She saw that this virtue, 
completely unknown to those with whom she had lived 
hitherto, was the life-giving principle of the little society into 
which chance, or rather divine Providence had suddenly 
thrown her. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


69 


As Petronilla had told her on the occasion of the agapse, 
joys and sorrows were in common between these Christians so 
truly united, so thoroughly imbued with brotherly love. 
Whatever one of them possessed was the property of all; 
and however small and insignificant the offering, it was 
received with gratitude, and the blessing of God was invoked 
on the giver. These men and women cared not for riches or 
for the comforts they bring, but despised and rejected them. 

Cecilia, the humble girl, soon became the intimate guest 
of the noble Flavius family. Flavia Domitilla had distin- 
guished her, and had asked Petronilla to confide her to 
her care. The venerable daughter of the Apostle, had 
the more willingly consented as Cecilia would find in Flavia 
Domitilla’s house, the example of the greatest virtues and the 
best school in which she could study a perfect Christian life. 

This illustrious matron whom the Church counts among 
the most sainted virgins who lived in those early ages, 
was then leading in Rome, and not far from the Imperial 
palace, a life of admirable charity and self-sacrifice. 

Her mother, whose name has not been preserved in his- 
tory, was a sister of Clemens, She was nearly related to the 
Emperor Homitian, for she was the grand-daughter of Sabinus 
Major, Vespasian’s elder brother. 

This Sabinus Major was the first who illustrated the Flavia 
race — whose founder, according to Suetonius, was ah obscure 
undertaker of public works. He was Prefect of the city when 
he was killed during a riot incited by the Yitellius party. 
Tacitus who relates his death says that he had commanded the 
armies of Rome during thirty-five years, under the Emperors 
Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius and Nero. 

The infuriated mob set fire to the Capitol where Sabinus 
and his family had sought an asylum, and massacred them. 
One child only escaped from this butchery. This was Flavia 
Domitilla, who owed her life to the courage and devotion of 
two Christian slaves, Nereus and Achilaeus — who both suffered 
martyrdom, subsequently, with their mistress. 

Flavia Domitilla^ placed by these men in a Christian family, 
lived with them several years, and embraced their faith. 
When more propitious times came, she was sought and 
claimed by her uncle, the consul Flavius Clemens, and went 
to live with him. She became the chosen instrument of 


70 AURELIA; OR, 

Providence through which this noble family embraced the 
true faith. 

The large estates of her family having been restored 
to her, she devoted her abundant means to relieving the poor 
and consoling the unfortunate. She gave the example of all 
the Christian works performed in the midst of wealth and 
worldly greatness with that humble spirit and sublime 
devotion, which have found imitatresses, even in our days, 
among women of the highest rank. 

Cecilia conducted by Petronilla, went every day to Flavia 
Domitilla’s house, where she associated herself to the practice 
of virtues which she had never before suspected. She brought 
to this pious task the enthusiasm of a neophyte who found in 
her own heart the liveliest sympathy for those who suffer, 

Gurges who, for some time past, had commenced persecuting 
the young girl with his love, and who felt a certain uneasiness 
at her frequent absence from home, was far from suspecting 
how she employed her time. ‘ It will be easily understood 
why Cecilia had little time to think of the vespillo, and why 
she had not hastened to give the favorable answer to his suit, 
with the hope of which her father had so long lured Gurges. 

Moreover — shall we say it? another thought was gradually 
absorbing the maiden’s mind ; a new feeling had grown side 
by side with her new faith — foreign to it and yet arising from 
it. This feeling caused her much anxiety, for she feared that 
it was distracting her thoughts from God. 

The poor child loved Olinthus. For several days she had 
avoided meeting him, hoping thus to recover her peace 
of mind ; but absence seemed only to increase the feeling 
which filled her heart and mastered her will. 

The motherless girl resolved to consult her two benefac- 
tresses, Petronilla who loved her as her child, and Flavia 
Domitilla who treated her like a sister. She knelt, one day, 
before these two holy women, and having, artlessly, and amidst 
many tears, unveiled the troubled state of her heart, asked 
them if she was still worthy of being a Christian. 

Petronilla and Flavia Domitilla, those two virgins so pure 
both, and yet so different — the one still bright with the bloom 
of youth, the other with the snow-white locks of venerable 
old age — looked at each other with a sweet smile. 

“Child,” said Petronilla, in a tone of gentle authority; 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


71 


“do you place Olinthus before God, in your thoughts, or 
God before Olinthus V 

“ I do not know,” faltered the young girl; “the faith of 
God is dear to me, but at the same time, Olinthus’ image is 
always in my heart.” 

‘ ‘ And if you were given the alternative to renounce your 
faith in order to follow Olinthus, or to give him up for God, 
what would you do, my daughter?” Petronilla asked, with 
still more authority. 

“ Even if the sacrifice should kill me, 0 mother, I feel 
that nothing would ever make me renounce Jesus Christ!” 

“ Child, your love is permitted, for it is pure and innocent. 
Let peace descend into your young heart. With us, marriage 
is holy, and we had already thought of it for our Cecilia.” 

“ Can it be true, Petronilla ? What, Olinthus. . . ” 

“ Olinthus loves you, and Eutychia wants you to be her 
daughter. We shall arrange this matter.” 

‘ ‘ But, what will my father say ? How can I hope that he 
will consent?” 

“ Do you think,” said Elavia Domitilla, “that if I under- 
take to gain his consent, Cecilius will resist long ?” 

“Child,” said Petronilla, “see how gentle and easy to 
bear is the yoke of the God we have taught you to serve ! 
He has His virgins, loved flowers, born of His breath, but 
near these, in His love, there is a place for the young spouse, 
for whom He reserves the same glorious palms, if she walks 
in the innocence and purity of His faith. Bise, my daughter, 
and hope in His infinite goodness !” 

Cecilia was radiant. Her tears had ceased to flow, and 
her heart opened itself with delight to the promised happiness 
which she could now enjoy without remorse. There could 
be no great obstacle to her marriage. Why should Cecilius 
refuse his consent? He had accepted Gurges; Olinthus was 
certainly preferable to the vespillo. Olinthus had an im- 
portant grade in the Roman army. He was a primipilaris, 
and had recently distinguished himself in the war against 
the Dacians. 

He had saved a legion from an ambush where it would 
have been cut to pieces. Severely wounded in this encounter, 
he had not been able to continue the campaign with Domitian, 
and had obtained a furlough. He had just returned to Rome 


72 


AURELIA; OR, 


when lie met Cecilia at his mother’s bedside. He could not 
see this beautiful girl, so gentle^ and so devoted to Eutychia, 
without being drawn to her by the most tender atfection. 
This feeling had taken a deeper root in his heart when he 
had seen Cecilia receiving instruction from Petronilla and 
embracing his faith with so much ardor. 

Cecilia having become a Christian, could be his companion 
for life, and Olinthus blessed God for the treasures of grace, 
virtue and candor with which He had endowed the gentle 
maiden. He had confided to Petronilla his projects and his 
hopes, and implored her to undertake their realization. 

Petronilla, assisted by Flavia Domitilla, was preparing to 
smooth down the obstacles which might be in the way of 
these young people. Plavia intended to give Cecilia a dower 
that would secure them the modest comforts of a happ)’’ 
home. She proposed also to overcome the possible repug- 
nance of Cecilius, by the offer of a sum of money that would 
make him independent of his collectorship. There wasjittle 
doubt of his acquiescing on those conditions. 

The two holy women considered the happiness of these 
children as secured. 

In the early times of the Church, marriage was always 
preceded by the ceremony of the espousals. This was done 
in a very simple manner : the future consorts having obtained 
the authorization of the Bishop, exchanged a solemn promise 
in presence of some holy and venerable persons. 

Petronilla received the mutual promise of the two lovers. 
Taking Cecilia’s hand, she placed it in 01inthus% and told 
them : 

“You are betrothed : love you each other in Jesus Christ, 
and wait patiently, in retreat and silence, the day when He 
will be pleased to bless your union.” 

According to the custom of those days, Olinthus placed 
on Cecilia’s finger a ring, the pledge of his promise, upon 
which was engraved a symbolic sign — a dove, image of the 
purity of her who was to be his companion. 

The marriage was to take place after a brief delay, Plavia 
Domitilla must first obtain the consent of Cecilius. It was 
necessary, besides, that Cecilia should prepare to be baptized, 
for the pontiff could not bless her marriage until she would 
have become, through this first sacrament, the child of the 
true God. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


73 


The news of the contemplated marriage caused a general 
rejoicing among the poor Jews to whom Cecilia was so dear. 
It was like a family festival promised to those hearts which 
thrilled with the same joys — like a light from Heaven, 
piercing the dark cloud that hung over their heads. 

But these dreams of happiness were soon to vanish. 
Gurges, the unfortunate vespillo, discovered, in the manner 
we have related, that the young girl was a Jewess and pre- 
ferred a Jew to him. 

Cecilius learned that his daughter was a Christian. 

Marcus Regulus, concealed in Eutrapeles’ shop, overheard 
the barber’s conversation with Gurges. 

And, finally, Cecilia, instead of marrying Olinthus, was 
sold in a slave market. 

How did all this happen ? 

Was Olinthus, whom we have seen boiling with rage at 
the foot of the platform on which stood his weeping betrothed, 
doomed to lose her on earth, to find her only in eternity ? 

Or would God, in His justice, give him back the innocent 
maiden who had invoked his name, and for whose deliver- 
ance two sublime virgins implored Him : Petronilla, the 
daughter of Peter, the prince of the apostles, and Flavia 
Domitilla, the angel of virtue and love, who laid at His feet 
the worldly treasures of human greatness and wealth ? 


CHAPTER IV. 
parmenon’s register. 

O N the morning following the nocturnal conversation 
between Eutrapeles and Gurges and the short consultation 
which had afterwards taken place, between the former and 
Marcus Regulus, a stranger presented himself in the barber- 
shop soon after it had been opened. 

This stranger was no other than Parmenon, the slave- 
trader ; but he no longer wore the gaudy toga we have seen 
him wearing whilst attending his calling ; his dark-colored 


74 AURELIA; OR, 

tunic was almost concealed under the folds of a wide podlium 
or mantle. 

“ I am sent,” said Parmenon to the tonsor whom he found 
alone in the shop, “ hy the lord Marcus Regulus, for the 
business you know of.” 

“Ah very well,” said Eutrapeles; “ I see that the lord 
Marcus Regulus loses no time. You are welcome.” 

“Here,” resumed Parmenon, “are the ten thousand 
sestertii which it has been agreed to pay Grurges, and hA’e is 
the register which will prove the transfer to me of that 
amount.” 

Parmenon unrolled the connected leaves of a roll of papyrus 
of a common kind, and proceeded to explain the writing 
to the barber. 

“You see,” said he, “here is the acceptum on this 
side, and the expensum on that, which is sufficient to show 
that I have paid in order to receive. The vcspillo must 
sign at the bottom of these two columns duri.ng the day.” 

“ Gurges cannot come before night,” remarked Eutrapeles. 

‘ ‘ Very well,” said Parmenon, ‘ ‘ I shall call for my register 
at the hour you generally see the lord Marcus Regulus. He 
will not come to-night. See that the register be properly 
signed.” 

And Parmenon went out after nodding to Eutrapeles 
in a rather discourteous manner. 

“ I don’t like this fellow,” mused the tonsor. “ He looks 
like a real parricide^ s sack ! ^ . . After all Regulus has 

his own reasons for employing him; it is none of my 
business.” 

At the hour appointed, Parmenon called for his register. 
He found it duly signed by Gurges. 

The vespillo had readily consented to the transfer by which 
he got back the ten thousand sestertii he had considered lost. 
He could not understand, however, why any one should 
exchange those pretty gold pieces for a claim against an 
insolvent debtor like Cecilius. 

On the following day, Parmenon, still wearing his dark 


*Th0 sack in which parricide’s were drowned contained a dog, a cock, a 
viper and a monkey. The proverbial designation “Parricide’s sack’’ was used 
to designate the assemblage, in one person, of all kinds of wickedness 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


75 


tunic and his pallium, and carrying his register under his 
arm, could be seen awaiting the opening of the court of 
Publius Aufidius Namusa, one of the seventeen pretors who 
administered justice in Rome, 

When this magistrate had taken his seat, and his crier 
(accensus) had asked aloud whether any citizen had a case 
for trial, Parmenon unrolled his register before the pretor, 
and requested him to see that his claim against Cecilius was 
legal, certain and demandable. 

Aufidius Namusa ordered an action to be entered against 
the fiscal agent, and Parmenon went away rejoicing. During 
the day, an executor litium or viator, that is to say a 
constable, called on Cecilius, 

“ I summon you in Parmenon’ s name ; follow me to the 
court,” said the viator, putting a written citation in the hands 
of the astonished Cecilius. 

I do not know this Parmenon, and I owe him nothing 
remarked Cecilius. 

“ This, the Pretor Publiu-s Aufidius Namusa will decide;” 
replied the Viator. ‘ ‘ If you should refuse, I would touch 
this witness’ ear, “he added, pointing to a man who had 
accompanied him ; “ and I would take you by the neck, in 
conformity with the law of the Twelve -Tables. However, 
you have until to-morrow to make up your mind, for this is 
an uncertain day {Intercisus dies.) 

Cecilius after due reflection, came to the conclusion that he 
could not do otherwise than appear before the pretor. He 
there found Parmenon, who had taken care not to forget his 
register. 

The pretor requested Parmenon to swear, according to the 
provisions of the law, that in bringing this suit he had 
not been actuated by a feeling of chicanery or revenge, and 
that he did not claim more than was due to him. 

Parmenon hastened to take the required oath. 

Aufidius Namusa then told him to state his claim and 
to show Cecilius his register. These two formalities having 
been complied with, the pretor invited Cecilius to declare 
whether he acknowledged the debt, or if he denied it, to state 
upon what grounds. 

Cecilius admitted that he owed ten thousand sestertii to 
G-urges; but remarked that he could not understand why 


76 


AURELIA; OR, 


Gurges sliould have transferred his claim to Parmenon, 
unless it were through motives of revenge because Cecilia had 
refused to marry him. 

This argument had little weight in law ; “ Dico^^ said the 
pretor, which was affirming Parmenon’s right. “ Conse- 
quently,”" he continued, “I adjudge the body of Cecilius to 
the said Parmenon.” 

And he ordered the crier to call the next case. 

“I don’t understand,” faltered Cecilius, rolling his ear 
between his fingers — a way embarrassed people have had 
from times immemorial. 

“You don’t understand I” quote Parmenon brutally as 
he retired. “It means that if by to-morrow you have not 
paid me ten thousand sestertii, I shall put my hand on your 
tunic, and you will belong to me I” 

Cecilius began to comprehend, but ten thousand sestertii 
are no small sum for a poor man to find, and the wretched 
tax-gatherer saw no issue to his dilemma. 

‘ ‘ This Parmenon has gained his suit very easily,” remarked 
a stranger who had followed the case with interest, and who 
was walking by the side of Cecilius. ‘ ‘ Marcus Regulus 
shrugged his shoulders when he heard the judgment.” 

Cecilius heard the remark and conceived a hope ! 

“Who is this Marcus Regulus, and what did he say?” 
asked the unfortunate suitor, approaching the stranger. 

“ Marcus Kegulus is the first lawyer of Rome,” replied the 
latter ; ‘ ‘ and he was saying that he would have compelled 
this Parmenon to carry away his register without obtaining 
anything.” 

‘ ‘ Indeed !” exclaimed Cecilius ; ‘ ‘ Marcus Regulus said 
this ! Is he still in the Forum ?” 

“Yes, there he is, amidst that group of pleaders.” I 
would advise you to speak to him ; he will give you some 
means of escaping from Parmenon’s clutches;” said the 
stranger, pointing out the lawyer who, on his side, had lost 
nothing of this by-play unnoticed by others. 

Cecilius went straight up to Marcus Regulus, to whom he 
explained his case in a few words, asking him whether there 
was any means of obtaining a reversion of judgment. 

“We shall see about it,” replied Marcus Regulus, “I 
think we may find some remedy. But, at present, as you 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


71 


see, I am detained here hy other engagements. Come to see 
me to-morrow morning, early ; my house is beyond the 
Tiber.” 

Cecilius turned his steps homeward, feeling a little easier 
in mind. But the poor fellow had not seen the end of his 
troubles. When he arrived home he found a communication 
from the City Prefect, enjoining him to explain his suspected 
affiliation with the J ews or Christians of Capena Grate ; then 
a summons from the Council of the Pontiffs, to answer an 
accusation of sacrilege based on the fact that the little god 
Jugatinus had been found lying broken on the public high- 
way, in front of his house. 

Could it be that some officious neighbor, having collected 
those mutilated fragments, had really carried them to the 
Pontiffs, and in his indignation, had brought this accusa- 
tion against Cecilius ? or did the blow come from a hand 
more directly interested in his ruin ? 

The unfortunate man did not even think of propounding to 
himself these questions, overcome as he was by the triple 
calamity with which he was threatened ; to be in Parmenon’s 
clutches, to lose his situation, and, what was still more 
serious, to be accused of sacrilege before the Pontiffs’ court ! 

“ Cecilia !” he cried, in a voice of thunder ; “ come here, 
unworthy child ! ” 

The young girl hastened to her father’s presence. Since 
the scene witnessed by Grurges, she had not left the house. 
Her father had forbidden it. Cecilius had ascertained with- 
out difficulty that, as alleged, his daughter was a Christian, 
that she was about to marry a Jew, and that old Petronilla 
had been the cause of all this trouble. He was furious ! 
Whatever religious convictions he had, revolted at the idea 
that his daughter had embraced the odious superstitions of 
those miserable Jews, the most despised of men ; and he 
foresaw the misfortunes likely to happen to him, the agent of 
the law, and commissioned to enforce it in all its rigor 
towards a detested class, when it should be known that his 
own daughter had been initiated to their sacrilegious and 
impious creed. 

He had therefore signified to his daughter that she must 
give up her new faith, or he would compel her even if he had 
to use the extraordinary power conferred by the law, to its 
7 * 


78 


AURELIA; OR, 


fullest extent. Meanwliile he placed her under the closest 
surveillance, to prevent any communication between her and 
those who, in his judgment, had caused her ruin. 

When Cecilia came down she found her father in a state of 
terrible excitement. 

“Wretched child,” he cried^ “ here then are the fruits of 
your infamous conduct ! ” 

And he showed her the writ in Parmenon’s name, the 
citation to appear before the Pontiffs, and the Prefect’s 
letter. 

“ So,” he continued, “ I am ruined, my freedom is in the 
hands of a wretch, my life is in danger, because my daughter 
has betrayed her father and her gods ! . . . Come, Cecilia, 
have you reflected ? Por you must speak now ! Will you 
renounce that abominable creed ?” 

“How, my dear father, could the sacrifice of my faith 
save you ? would your misfortunes, if they exist, be 
remedied ? ” 

‘ ‘ If they exist ! G-reat Gods ! Have I invented them ?” 

“ No, father ! but it is not you they threaten, it is me ! ” 

‘ ‘ How is that ? ” 

‘ ‘ The City Prefect will not displace you when you will 
have told him that your daughter alone is a Christian. The 
Pontiffs will not punish you, but me, when they learn that I 
broke the idol.” 

‘ ‘ And Parmenon ? ” 

“ Parmenon will have no power when his claim is satis- 
fied.” 

“By Hercules! the girl has a charming, easy way of 
arranging things 1 cried Cecilius with bitter irony. “ In- 
deed, it is foolish in me to feel alarmed! Oh ! how like the 
way of those perfidious Jews this is ! They have a ready 
answer for the most difl&cult questions ! Unfortunate child !” 
added the father, addressing his daughter with a certain 
tenderness, “ can you not understand that all is lost if you 
persist in proclaiming yourself a Christian ! and that all is 
saved if you will abjure at the feet of the Pontiffs ! ” 

“Father,” said Cecilia, in a firm and respectful tone; 
‘ ‘ do not expect that I shall ever renounce the religion of 
Christ. Better die, than . . . . ” 

“ What! you would persist in this infamous creed, at the 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


79 


risk of destroying your own prospects, and, what you do not 
seem to care much about, at the risk of consummating your 
father’s ruin, and perhaps of imperilling his liberty and his 
life ! ” 

“ It would be a dreadful thing, 0 my father ! it would be 
for me a source of everlasting sorrow, if I should be the 
cause of your misfortune ! but, I repeat it, you are unneces- 
sarily alarmed, and . . . . ” 

“And?” asked Cecilius, trembling with fear and rage, 
“And? .... Proceed, unnatural child ! ” 

‘ ‘ 0 father ! take my life ... it belongs to you . . . and 
I would be happy to lay it down for you . . . but do not 
ask of me a sacrifice which I cannot make.” 

Cecilius, pale with rage, was fearful to behold. He raised 
his hand as if to strike or curse his daughter ! But a sudden 
thought made him withhold the blow. 

‘ ‘ You are no longer my daughter !” he exclaimed vehe- 
mently ; “no, by all the gods; I disown you ! But I shall 
crush you, as I crush this vase which, like you, is mine ! ” 

And seizing an amphora upon the table he dashed it on 
the floor. 

“ Father! Father !” said Cecilia imploringly. 

‘ ‘ What is it you wish to say ? that you repent ? that 
you renounce this cursed superstition ?” asked Cecilius looking 
at her with a madman’s gaze. 

“ Never !” said the young girl, making a supreme effort; 
and, overcome by her emotion, she fell^ sobbing bitterly, on a 
seat. 

Her father cast on her a glance full of sadness and bitter 
sorrow, and left her without speaking another word ; but 
as he went out, he muttered to himself : 

“ This consultation with Marcus Regulus is more necessary 
than ever.” 


80 


AURELIA; OR, 


CHAPTER V. 

A LEGAL CONSULTATION. 

M ARCUS- ATILIUS Regulus possessed more wealth than 
many illustrious patricians . In his youth , he once offered 
a sacrifice to the gods, for the purpose of learning whether 
he would ever possess sixty millions sestertii; and he often 
related, himself, how, on that occasion, the entrails of 
the victims happening to he double, he had understood 
this omen to mean that this immense sum was twice promised 
to him. 

He had, in fact, accumulated this incredible amount, 
but by the most abject and infamous means. His career may 
be divided into three distinct periods. 

During the first, which extends from Nero’s reign to those 
of Vespasian and Titus, he served his apprenticeship in 
those crimes which subsequently won him such unenviable 
fame. 

His father, banished by Claudius or by Nero, having 
left him no patrimony, he had felt at an early age the 
thirst for blood and the insatiable craving for gold — Lihidiue 
sanguinis et hiatu prcemiorum, says Tacitus with inimitable 
force of style — and he had inaugurated his entrance into the 
bar, by becoming instrumental in three odious murders 
perpetrated by Nero upon his accusations. 

These murders were those of Marcus Licinius Crassus, 
great-grand-son of the famous orator, who was also one 
of the wealthiest citizens of Rome during the last years of the 
republic ; and of Camerinus and Salvidienus Orphitus about 
whose rank and quality little is said by the historians. 

The accusation against Crassus brought to Regulus seven 
millions sestertii ; those against Camerinus and Salvidienus 
Orphitus were paid with the questorship and the sacerdotal 
dignity. 

During the second period, which comprises the reigns 
of Vespasian and Titus, informers were looked upon with 
disfavor. Regulus endeavored to retain his seat in the 
Senate, but was crushed under the burning words of 


TEE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


81 


Curtius Montanus, and ignominiously expelled from that 
illustrious body. 

He returned to the bar where shone such men as Satrius 
Rufus, Pompeius Saturninus, Suetonius the author of the 
life of the Twelve Ccesars, Salvius Liberalis, Cornelius Tacitus, 
the great historian, Cains Pronto, Tuscilius Nominatus, 
Claudius Restitutus, and Pliny-the-Younger, the greatest 
orator among them. 

We need not say that Regulus was despised by his 
colleagues. 

During the third period — Domitian’s reign — Marcus Re- 
gulus resumed his trade of informer and spy. It was not, 
however, by acting openly as he had done in former times, 
but by secret denunciations and dark undertakings that 
he endeavored to win Domitian’s favor. 

He vied in infamous zeal with Metius Cams, a vile 
informer, but less dangerous than Regulus, and who could 
scarcely brook the latter’s competition. 

Herennius Senecionus having been condemned and put 
to death through the accusations of Metius Carus, simply 
because he had eulogized Helvidius Priscus, the son-in-law of 
Thraseas, and one of Nero’s victims, Regulus, jealous of 
having had no share in so meritorious a denunciation, 
attempted to connect himself with it by pursuing with his 
insults the memory of Herennius. 

But his rival could not bear this interference, and checked 
him in the midst of his facile triumph, with this terrible 
apostrophe: “What have you to do with my dead? Have 
you seen me torment Crassus and Camerinus ?” 

Marcus Regulus was certainly, as one of his victims 
wrote to Domitian : the most wicked of two-legged animals — 
omnium hipedum nequissimus. He was also the most skillful 
of plotters. We have already seen how he had woven a 
web around Flavius Clemens, the Grand- Vestal and Metellus 
Celer. He had found a most useful tool in the loquacious 
Eutrapeles, in whose shop he picked up, almost every night, 
some valuable information. 

The conversation between Gurges and Eutrapeles, over- 
heard by Regulus from his hiding place in the barber’s 
tepidarium, had admirably served his purpose, for he had 
acquired the certainty that Flavia Domitilla was a Christian, 


82 


AURELIA; OR, 


entertaining relations with the Jews of Capena Grate ; and, 
at the same time, he had learned the name of the young girl 
through whom it would he easy — so he thought, at least — 
to penetrate the mysteries he was so anxious to discover. 

But before all, he must have the girl in his power. If this 
might have seemed difficult to others, it was nothing for a 
tactician like Marcus Begulus. His plan was promptly con- 
ceived, and he made the most of every circumstance men- 
tioned by the vespillo. He imagined, first, to bring forward 
Parmenon, in order that he might have a hold on Cecilius, 
who being without resources must fear for his liberty. 

Then he completed his plan of campaign against the poor 
tax-gatherer by the Prefect’s letter and the citation before 
the Pontiff’s court, for, the reader must have surmised it, 
these documents found by Cicilius on his return home, had 
been sent at this arch-plotter’s suggestion. 

He it was who had sent the officious stranger to the Forum 
to lead the defeated pleader into the snare, by showing him 
Marcus Begulus as the only man who could save him from 
Parmenon . 

Marcus Begulus now felt sure that Cecilius would come, 
and he was confidently expecting him, when his nomenclator 
introduced Cecilia’s unhappy father in his exedra or consul- 
tation room. 

A single window admitted the light in this vast room, 
around which were placed purple covered seats or beds for 
the visitors. The four angles were occupied by the brazen 
statues of Apollo, the god of eloquence and poetry; of 
Minerva, the goddess of science and wisdom ; of Hercules, 
the emblem of strength ; and of Cupids, the god of love and 
the symbol of literary grace. 

Above the seats and running up as high as the hand could 
reach, could be seen a number of little balls, some gilded 
and the others simply made of wood, of bone, or of horn. 
These were the bosses or umbilici of the books placed in their 
scrinia or foruli, cylindrical cases, with round holes in the 
top into which the volumes, carefully rolled, were slipped. 

Grenerally, these scrinia were placed on their end, around 
the room, but Begulus had adopted the system introduced 
by the booksellers in their shops, and which consisted in 
cutting small square compartments or pigeon-holes, in the 


THE JEWS OF CAPENA OATB^ 83 

thickness of the wall, into which the scrinia were placed 
horizontally. 

The number of books contained in these nests was quite 
considerable and had been collected at great cost ; for Regulus 
aspired to the triple fame of the jurisconsult, the eloquent 
lawyer, and the writer ; and the choice of his books corres- 
ponded with this ambition. 

The table placed in the centre of the exedra was covered 
with briefs and documents, with wax tablets and styles for 
taking notes ; with pergamins and immaculate sheets of 
papyrus for writing petitions and pleadings. There could 
also be seen the long calami which served as pens ; the small 
cylindrical vases containing a gummy preparation for connect- 
ing together the papyrus sheets. The rollers or sticks were 
piled there, ready to receive the completed manuscripts and 
their umbilici. 

When Cecilius entered the exedra, the lawyer seemed to 
be busily engaged in examining some manuscripts ; but an 
oblique glance thrown on his visitor was sufficient to identify 
the latter. An imperceptible smile lighted his features. 

“What is it? What do you want?” he asked, feigning 
at first not to recognize Cecilius; then, he resumed “Ah! 
very well ; it is you who spoke to me yesterday, concerning 
one Parmenon ...” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Cecilius; “but since yesterday, my 
position has undergone a strange complication.” 

‘ ‘ How is that ?” asked the lawyer. ‘ ‘ What new incident 
has occurred ?” 

Cecilius handed him the Prefect’s letter and the citation of 
the Pontifis. 

Regulus feigned to read the two documents with the 
greatest attention. 

“ This is nothing,” ho remarked to Cecilius after a pause, 
and he crumpled the Prefect’s letter ; “ I am particularly 
acquainted with Honoratus Messio, and with a word of ex- 
planation from me, the matter will be dropped. But this is 
much more serious,” he added, putting his forefinger on the 
Pontiff’s citation. “ Is this charge true?” 

“ Unfortunately, it is,” faltered Cecilius. “However, it 
was not I, but my daughter who broke the statue of the 
little god Jugatinus. 


84 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ Your daughter lives with you, and under your paternal 
authority?” asked the lawyer with peculiar emphasis. 

“ Of course she does,” replied Cecilius. 

“ Then, it amounts to the same thing. It is the same as 
if you had committed the sacrilege yourself : Qui vox tua 
tanquam jilii,sicuti JUii voxtanquam tua intelligitur, say the 
jurisconsults in their figurative style.” 

“ By Jupiter ! Is it possible?” exclaimed tha poor man. 

“Bid you not understand the quotation? Well, let us 
put manus in the place of vox, and the meaning will be : 
that thy hand is like the hand of thy son, and the hand of thy 
son like thine. Is this clear?” 

“ And what is the penalty ?” asked the wretched Cecilius, 
with evident anxiety ! 

But, Marcus Begulus, thinking probably that the time had 
not come to satisfy his client on this point, replied by put- 
ting this other question : 

‘ ‘ And what was the motive for this sacrilege ?” 

“My daughter is a Christian!” 

“ Your daughter is a Christian ?” exclaimed Begulus with 
well assumed astonishment. ‘ ‘ Oh ! this is serious ! very 
serious I I understand now Honoratus Messio’s letter . . . 
and I don’t know if he can show himself as leniently dis- 
posed as I hoped. No, it is scarcely probable. Let us see, 
however,” he resumed, “the case may not be so bad afte- 
all. If your daughter would renounce this infamous superr 
stition, I am sure the Pontiffs could pronounce themselves 
satisfied. Have you tried to persuade her ?” 

“Alas! yes,” replied the unhappy father dejectedly; 
“ but I have not succeeded.” 

“ You must try again, and by the most energetic means,” 
suggested Begulus, who before proceeding further, wished 
to ascertain how far he could go. 

Yet he knew that the Christians had never allowed them- 
selves to be vanquished. In Nero’s time he had been a 
witness to their contempt for life and the immovable intre- 
pidity of their faith. 

“By the gods! I will do it,” said Cecilius, ‘"‘may they 
grant me better success ! . . . But this cannot be ! It is 
useless to hope ! . . . What,” he added, looking anxiously 
at the lawyer, ‘ ‘ is there no other means ?” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


85 


**0h! there arc always means/’ said Regains. “But 
there are some means which are too harsh for a father to use, 
however inevitable they may be,” he added with deep commis- 
seration. 

‘ ‘ And what means are those ? ” inquired the wretched 
man, overcome by his anguish. 

“ There is the noxal abandonment,’’^ replied the lawyer, 
watching his client’s features to see the effect of this sug- 
gestion. And perceiving that Cecilius did not seem to 
understand, he added : 

‘ ‘ The law is not so unjust and absurd as to make the 
father necessarily responsible in his own person, for the 
misdeeds of his child. This severing of the legal tie, to 
which I have just alluded, is possible for the father who does 
not wish that his daughter’s crime should be visited upon 
him. It is done by surrendering the child to those who have 
made the complaint.” 

Cecilius bounded on his seat. 

‘•'What !” he cried ; “I would surrender my daughter to 
the Pontiffs ? And what would they do with her ? ” 

“ What will you ? It must be you or she, or rather both 
of you,” retorted Regulus coolly, “ Tioxa caput sequitur^ 
unless the separation takes place.” 

“ How can this be, and to what danger are we exposed ? 

“ You are not threatened with personal punishment ; and 
yet it is pretty much the same thing,” said Regulus. 

“ What punishment do you mean ? What will amount to 
the same thing ? In the name of the gods, explain your 
words, my lord Regulus,” cried the wretched father, raising 
his hands in supplication. 

“Listen tome, then,” said the lawyer, “it is unfortu- 
nately but too simple. Formerly,” he continued, putting 
great stress on his words, “when the religious feeling, so 
weak nowadays, was all powerful, your daughter would have 
inevitably incurred the servitude of the penalty, that is to 
say, would have been condemned to the beasts, or rather to 
the mines, for Jugatinus being an inferior god, the penalty 
of the second degree would have been applied. When tho 
criminal is a woman, the condemnation in metallum may be 
commuted to perpetual slavery.” 

“ Oh ! gods ! ” faltered Cecilius astounded. 

8 


86 


AURELIA; OR, 


“Ido not think, remarked the lawyer unconcernedly, 
“ that things will he pushed so far. And yet, I would not 
affirm it, for the divine Domitian has undertaken to restore 
the creed. But he is absent, and thanks to this circumstance, 
the Pontiffs may not be so stringent. It is probable they 
may be satisfied with a heavy sum of money in reparation 
for the sacrilege, say twenty thousand sestertii, which you 
will be obliged to pay in your quality of her father, for, ac- 
cording to law, the prosecution must be against yourself — 
tecum est actio. But, at all events, your daughter shall 
have to renounce her superstition ; else I cannot answer for 
the consequences.” 

“And if my daughter does not abjure her creed and I 
cannot pay the twenty thousand sestertii.” 

‘ ‘ If you cannot pay the twenty thousand sestertii” replied 
the lawyer positively, “the Pontiffs will enforce the sale 
of your body to recover the judgment. This is why I 
have just told you that it would amount to the same thing.” 

The unhappy Cecilius was horribly pale. He found 
nothing to refute in these rigorous consequences which he 
had not perceived at first, but which now appeared perfectly 
clear to him. Often, in his office of Fiscal Agent, he 
had exercised the same rigor towards unfortunate insolvents, 
and had caused them to be sold at auction. Why should 
the Pontiffs abstain from this uniform means of constraint 
which the Boman law placed in the hands of all creditors ? 

His trouble did not escape Regulus. The informer distilled 
with skilful cruelty the words which fell into Cecilius’ 
heart like so many drops of melted lead ! 

“Happily,” he resumed, “to all these causes of grave 
anxiety, there remains the remedy of the noxal abandonment!' 

And as Cecilius made again a gesture of unconquerable 
repugnance : 

“How!” cried the tempter, “can you hesitate to give 
up a daughter who has not feared to expose you to such 
terrible misfortunes, by her sacrilegious act, and who 
abandons you to those dangers by her obstinate refusal 
to abjure her false creed 1” 

“And Parmenon ?” remarked Cecilius, “ Parmenon whom 
we have forgotten, but who will take possession of me ! 
Even if I should surrender my daughter to the Pontiffs, 
would that save me from Parmenon ?” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


87 


"‘Ah! that is true, there is this Parmeuou ! The 
judgment is legal and I do not see how to avoid this 
difficulty,” replied Regulus. 

“It is to-day,” resumed Cecilius, “that Parmenon is 
to demand what I owed Gurges, and if I do not pay him 
— which must happen, for I have not one hundred sestertii — 
I must expect ...” 

“To he sold within the legal delay, beyond the Tiber,” 
added Regulus. “This, in fact, is unavoidable, unless . 

“ Unless what?” asked Cecilius anxiously. 

“ Why, unless you should do with Parmenon what you 
can do with the Pontiffs.” 

‘ ‘ The noxal abandonment ! always the noxal abandon- 
ment 1” cried the wretch with bitter anguish. 

“Not precisely,” said the lawyer with undisturbed- 
calmness. “The noxal abandonment can only take place 
when a misdemeanor has been established. But the law 
permits us to satisfy a creditor by surrendering that which 
belongs to us. Now, your daughter belongs to you; she 
is your thing, in law.” 

‘ ‘ So, it is the sale of my daughter to Parmenon which you 
counsel?” asked Cecilius dejectedly but with some indignation. 

“ I counsel nothing,” replied Regulus. “You come here 
to consult me in your embarrassments and I suggest the 
only means by which you can get out of them. Do as 
you please, what concern of mine is it ! The gods are witness 
that I have only sought to save you.” 

As he said these words, a young child ran into the 
room and sprang joyfully on his knees. It was his son. 

The wretch caressed the child tenderly, and after playing a 
while with him kissed his fair young brow. 

“ On the head of this child,” said he, addressing Cecilius, 
“ I swear that what I have said has not been to deceive you,: 
but was dictated by my desire to serve your interests !” 

And putting down his little son, he led him by the 
hand to the door where a slave took charge of him. 

This short episode had deeply moved Cecilius. He now 
saw Regulus under another light ; his confidence was 
strengthened : he could not think that the man who had 
shown himself a loving father, and had sworn an oath on his 
child’s head, could think of betraying an unfortunate client. 


AURELIA; OR, 


When Regulus returned he found Cecilius sobbing bitterly ; 

“ All is lost !” muttered the poor man amidst his tears; 
“save mel my lord Regulus, save my daughter! In the 
name of the gods, protect us 1’^ 

“But,” said Regulus, “your salvation is in your own 
hands. It will not be my fault if your daughter persists in 
accomplishing her ruin and your own. I hold out my hand 
to he who can take it. I let him drown who is too far 
from the shore, or who will not avail himself of my aid. 
The great Jupiter himself could not do more, I think.” 

Cecilius, absorbed in his despair, made no reply. 

“ Come,” said the lawyer, wishing to strike the last blow, 
“ this consultation has lasted already too long, it must come 
to an end. I shall recapitulate, listen attentively and you 
can decide afterwards. By Hercules! I did not get you into 
this plight. Listen.” 

Cecilia’s father looked up through his tears. 

“ This Parmenon,” resumed the lawyer, purposely giving 
his words a certain obscurity; “ far from injuring you, 
becomes a supreme resource, for you have the means of satis- 
fying him. This being done, the prosecution of the Pontiffs 
directed to you, falls upon him, the law is positive. It is 
then Parmenon who must pay this money, admitting that 
it should be claimed, for the Pontiffs learning that you have 
punished, will not renew against the master, the complaint 
made against the father. As to your place, I don’t see if 
the matter is settled in this way, why they should discharge 
you. By this act of courage you will have shown that you 
are not friendly to the Jews of Capena Gate. This is all 
I can say to you, my dear client. Think over it. I must 
go to the Forum.” 

Regulus rose and snapped his fingers — the Roman way to 
summon a slave, in those days. 

The nomenclator who had admitted Cecilius answered the 
summons. 

“ Show this citizen the way,” said Regulus. 

When the door of the exedra closed, and the lawyer found 
himself alone : 

“ The soil was very hard,” said he, “but I have done like 
the rain, I have permeated it. And now, Parmenon can be 
brought forward. Will the wretch act at the precise moment, 
or spoil the play by his awkwardness*? ” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


89 


CHAPTER VI, 


.ICW IN ROME A FATHER COULD SELL HIS DAUGHTER. 

HEN Cecilius returned homo, it was night. The unfor- 



tunate man could not have said where he had been since 


morning. He had wandered about, with sinking heart and 
absent mind, trying vainly to think how he could save himself 
from the terrible dilemma in which he was placed. 

Cecilia sat working by the light of a lamp. Her features 
reflected the sadness and anxiety of her thoughts. The 
fearful scene of the previous day, the prolonged absence of 
her father who had never failed coming home for the evening 
meal, those complaints before the pretor, the town-prefect 
and the pontiffs, all these strange events filled her heart with 
gloomy forebodings. 

Then, respecting her father’s orders even when they were 
unjustly rigorous, she had abstained herself since several 
days from seeing the beings dearest to her heart : Petronilla, 
Flavia Domitilla, Eutychia, and Olinthus, Olinthus whose 
betrothed she was, whose ring she wore on her finger — the 
pledge of a happiness she still hoped for, her only comfort 
when prayer failed to soothe her troubled soul ! 

She expected with anxiety the coming of her father, and 
yet at every noise that seemed to indicate his return, she 
trembled, like the leaf before the approaching storm. When 
Cecilius appeared, his haggard looks and the disorder of his 
garments were enough to reveal to her that something serious 
had occurred. She felt that she would want strength to bear 
the new trials which she foresaw ; and she raised her eyes 
to heaven in mute supplication. 

“Father,” she said after a pause, seeing that Cecilius 
remained silent, ‘ ^ will you not take some food ? I have 
prepared the dishes you like, and have kept them quite warm 
by the fire.” 

Cecilius drew a seat without vouchsafing an answer, and 
helping himself to the food placed before him by his daughter, 
commenced eating with avidity. 

Hunger and sorrow combined to overwhelm the wretched 
man. Thought was annihilated. 


8 * 


90 


AURELIA; OR, 


Gradually, as the warm food caused his system to revive, 
a healthier glow spread on his pale features, and his eyes 
brightened. Pushing from him the empty plate, he looked 
at his daughter; the old tenderness overflowed his heart, and 
leaning his head on the table, he wept silently. 

There was something painful to behold in this great sorrow, 
those silent tears of a father in presence of his only child. 
Cecilia threw herself at his feet, calling him by the most 
endearing names ; but he arose and pushed her back with a 
sort of terror. 

This struggle was thrice renewed ; the daughter endeavor- 
ing to soothe by her caresses, the growing excitement of the 
father who repulsed her. 

A strange fire burned in the tax-gatherer’s eyes, and his 
features wore a dark and sinister expression. 

“ Cecilia,” he said at last, “ what I have to tell you is 
grave ! You have betrayed your father and you have ruined 
him ! Child, have you reflected upon the fate you have 
prepared for me ?’ 

And without waiting for her answer, he added, looking at 
her sternly : 

“ My daughter, you must declare to me that you abhor 
those miserable Jews! that you despise their creed, and that 
you are ready to return to our gods 1” 

“ Oh ! father, father!” cried the young girl, “this again? 
you then have not understood me ?” 

“ That’s it, you cannot. And I shall be sold into slavery ! 
and they will sell you also ! We shall both be the prey of 
the Pontiffs and of Parmenon ?” 

“Who has said that, father?” 

“A great jurisconsult, a man of law whom I consulted 
this morning. It is certain !” 

“It is impossible, for you at least. As for me, if God 
wishes it, I am ready to suffer everything.” 

“ So you refuse. You have no pity for me, you consent 
to your own ruin !” 

‘ ‘ Father, do not ask me that which cannot be. Oh ! I love 
you and my heart is breaking. May the God I adore listen 
to my prayer and shield you from all harm ! At that price I 
shall bear the greatest evils as a light burthen.” 

“ My child,” said Cecilius in a caressing voice, approach- 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


91 


ing his daughter, ‘ ‘ can you think that you are not dear to 
me and that your misfortune would not he mine ? Oh ! my 
daughter, I have suffered and I suffer much ! I only ask 
one word of you, one single word. Say it; in the name of 
the gods I beseech you I” 

“ I cannot, father ! Do not invoke tbe gods, they are 
nothing. If what you ask of me were possible, I would do 
it, believe me. Strong must be your daughter’s conviction 
in her faith, that she should resist when you beseech her for 
your safety.” 

“ My little Cecilia,” said the wretched father, clasping his 
daughter’s hands in his; “^do you wish me to die? How 
could I live if you were not there ? what joy would be left 
in my life ? in this humble home ? Dear hope of my old 
age, where will you he !” 

The poor child felt her courage giving way before these 
loving entreaties and these tears. 

“ Oh ! my God !” she prayed inwardly, “ help me ! I did 
not think this trial would be so painful !” 

‘ ‘ Do you remember your mother ?” Cecilius resumed : 
“ your mother who left you to my care, a mere babe? If 
she were here, joining her prayers to mine, would you refuse 
her ?” 

“ My mother was a worthy and courageous woman. She 
would understand me, and she would not ask me to break 
the solemn vow I have made in my heart.” 

“My daughter! . . . Believe in your heart if you 

wish ; but for the Pontiffs, for those who seek me, and who 
will come, ah ! say that you are not a Christian 1” 

“Never! father, never! The God I adore claims the 
secret devotion of the soul, but He wants also that the lips 
should proclaim Him even before those who know him not.” 

“Great Gods!” cried Cecilius, “ I beseech this child for 
her life and she hears me not ! I ask her to save her father, 
and her voice is mute !” 

“Father! father! do not say that, for I can give my life 
for you !” 

“ Listen to me, child,” said the unhappy man, raising his 
hands imploringly. “Listen. . . You know not what 

is that slavery which awaits you. But I know it. When 
you were born, your father had passed forty years in the 


92 


AURELIA; OR, 


power of a master. May the gods save you from belonging 
to that man whose will is law — a master ! 0 my child ! my 

life ! my own flesh and blood ! You do not know that my 
poor body had become hardened by continual tortures, and 
that Nominatus Capella, to whom I had been sold, could find 
but one means of inflicting pain — by loading me with irons 
brought to an almost red heat !” 

‘ ‘ Horror !’^ cried Cecilia. 

“See, child, see here!” and the wretch laying bare his 
arms and legs, showed his daughter the deep scars left by 
this cruel punishment. “Well ! 1 could live, because I had 
hope ! because, by selling, day after day, half of my ration, 
I could accumulate a capital. I added thus hunger to my 
other sufferings, but in the distant future, I saw freedom ! 
and it came at last I” 

“Yes, it came,” continued the old man, growing more 
excited under the influence of these reminiscences. “I paid 
for it, to the heir of Nominatus Capella, eight thousand 
sestertii, accumulated painfully during forty years privations I 
But I have not sufficient life left me to purchase freedom 
a second time if I lose it !” he cried with wild despair. “Oh I 
to die a slave 1 to die a slave ! . . .” 

The unhappy man ceased speaking, until his oppressed 
chest was relieved by convulsive sobs. 

‘ ‘ Child,” he resumed dejectedly : * ‘ You have never known 
the tortures of a slave : the rod which tears, the whip with its 
lead-pointed lash, the red-hot blades! Would you then 
face those fearful sufferings ?” 

“Father,” said Cecilia, firmly; “I repeat it, with the 
help of God, I am ready to suffer everything for Him ! — And 
for you, also,” she added with a look of unspeakable tender- 
ness. “ What more can you ask of me ?” 

“ But it is not you alone ! Do you not understand me ?” 
Cried Cecilius with sudden exasperation, “it is you and 
I ! They have told me so, and I know it to be true ! Well ! 
I will not, no, I do not want to be a slave again I And I will 
not be ! By all the gods ! they shall not sell me 1” 

The old man’s anger, softened for a moment by paternal 
affection, was breaking out more terrible. His excitement 
was fearful to behold ! One would have thought that he saw 
a phantom advancing to load him with chains^ and that he 
repulsed it with terror. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


93 


“No, father, you will not he a slave! no, you will not 
be sold,” repeated the terrified young girl. “I cannot 
understand your fears. Who can have put such ideas into 
your mind 

‘ ‘ Hush !” cried Cecilius, and fixing his burning gaze on 
his daughter, he asked in a husky voice; “Tell me, do 
you want us both to perish ?” 

Cecilia understood him. It was a last supreme appeal, and 
she must weigh the filial love which filled her heart and the 
piety which had so recently entered her soul : she must 
choose between her God and her father \ 

“No, father,” she replied solemnly; “no, I do not 
wish us both to perish. I love life and liberty, if God wills 
that I should preserve these blessings. I want you also 
to live, and to live free.” 

“ Then, renounce those Jews and their God 1” 

“I cannot do it, however fearful the conse(][uences of 
my refusal 1” said the young girl, with the same force and 
calmness, although she felt so faint that she leaned against 
the wall for support. 

The old man looked at her with stupid wonder, and 
stepped back terrified, staggering like a drunken man. 

“ Oh I” he said with fearful bitterness ; “I am nothing for 
that child I She wishes my ruin I Parmenon can come 
now, I have wherewith to pay him 1” 

“ Here I am,” said a voice. 

Cecilius looked round and saw Parmenon. The infamous 
agent of Pegulus had waited all day in the neighborhood. 
When Cecilius returned home, Parmenon followed him, 
unperceived, into the house, where, concealed behind the 
heavy curtain, he had seen and heard all that passed between 
the father and his daughter. 

Cecilius showed no surprise, although he had not been 
aware of this man’s presence in his house. Overwhelmed by 
his emotions, the wretched tax-gatherer felt nothing but terror 
and anger. When Parmenon approached him, he merely 
remarked, with fearful calmness ; 

“Very well! You come in good time. But wait a 
minute.” 

And going to his daughter, he said to her, with terrible 
earnestness ; 


94 


AURELIA; OR, 


“Cecilia, do you understand that I am going to sell you to 
this man, if you refuse to do, this very instant, what I 
have asked of you?” 

“Father,” replied the young girl; “I understand that 
I am alone concerned now, and that I save you. Do what 
you wish.” 

But in her heart, she added : “Oh ! my God! if my father 
were to kill me, it seems to me he would be less guilty 1”^ 

“You hear her,” said Cecilius to Parmenon, “she is a 
Christian and refuses to return to our gods. I give her 
to you. Will you take her ?” 

“One moment!” quote Parmenon, who had received his 
instructions. “Is it a sale you propose to make, or a 
payment ? Do you transfer to me all your rights as a father, 
which would be irrevocable, or do you merely olfer me a 
pledge as my debtor, which would be of weak and uncertain 
value ?” 

“ I tell you,” cried Cecilius completely beside himself, 
“that this girl has betrayed her father and her gods ! I 
dragged myself at her feet, and she would not listen to my 
tearful prayer. I tell you she is no longer my child, and 
you can take her away. Do you hear me, Parmenon ?” 

“Come in, men,” cried the latter. 

Seven men, the necessary witnesses to give validity to the 
act of mancipation, came in at this summons. There was 
an antestat to certify to the agreement ; a Uhripens whose 
duties we have already described, and five witnesses. 

“ You must repeat before these persons that you mancipate 
your daughter to wie,” said Parmenon to Cecilius. 

The fatal instant had arrived. The wretched father shud- 
dered ; he cast one long look on his daughter, and said : 

“ Child ! it is yet time; say a word, one word only, and it 
will not be you, but me, whom I will deliver to Parmenon.” 

“Father, I cannot. Be free I it is my duty to suffer for 
you.” 

A solemn pause followed, during which nothing was heard 
but the groans of the father and the smothered sobs of the 
daughter. 

At last, Cecilius extended his hand towards the child whom 
he had but recently called “ his life’s hope,” “his own flesh 
and blood,” and in a husky and scarcely audible voice, pro- 
nounced the words of the legal form : 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 95 

Parmenon, I mancipate to you this girl, who is mine ! . P 

“ And I,” said Parmenon quickly, as he grasped Cecilia’s 
hand, “ I say that this young girl is mine by the law of the 
Quirites, and that I have bought her with this copper coin 
and these scales.” 

And he went through the formalities which we have seen 
performed by the divine Aurelia. 

In Rome a daughter was but a thing, a chattel, relatively 
to her father, and her mancipation required no more formali- 
ties than that of a slave or a tract of land. 

“Here,” said Parmenon, throwing his torn register to 
Cecilius, “ you owe me nothing, now.” 

Cecilius was crouching in a corner of the room. He heard 
not ; he saw nothing. 

“ And now, let us go,” added Parmenon. 

Cecilia rushed to her father, to clasp him in a last em- 
brace, but the old man tore himself away violently, with 
horrible imprecations. 

Parmenon and his escort withdrew, taking along Cecilia. 
When they had proceeded a few steps in the street, the young 
girl heard a fearful cry. She looked back, and in the gloom 
of the night, she saw two hands extended towards her ; then 
the noise of a body falling heavily on the pavement, struck 
her ears. 

She would have rushed back, but Parmenon seized her 
roughly by the arm : 

“Holloa!” he exclaimed; “Do we wish to escape al- 
ready ? that would be charming. Come, walk along quietly.” 

They soon arrived at the slave-dealer’s tavern, and the 
young girl, her tender limbs bruised by heavy chains, was 
thrown into the narrow ergastulnm where thirty slaves slept, 
confusedly packed together. 


96 


AURELIA i OR, 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE SLAVE-DEALER AS A LAWYER. 

T he events we have just described were the sequence of 
the conversation between Gurges and Eutrapeles. They 
had occurred within a very small number of days. 

Meanwhile, Flavia-Homitilla, Petronilla, Eutychia and 
Olinthus, and all the poor Jews of Capena Gate who loved 
Cecilia and who were accustomed to see her every day, 
were very uneasy at her absence. 

Olinthus, particularly, wondered at it, and suffered the most 
cruel anguish, for he could not help thinking that perhaps 
Cecilia had abandoned the faith so recently embraced, and it 
was this which kept her away from the society of the faithful. 
She would then be forever lost to him, for how could he ever 
take for his companion in life, one who would have deserted 
her God and trampled under foot vows so recently made. 

Another circumstance served to aggravate these fears, 
or, at least, to announce that something serious had happened : 
Cecilius had not been seen near the Capena Gate during 
the week, and although his absence could not be deplored as 
a misfortune, since it gave the poor Jews some respite, it 
certainly tended to increase the anxiety and the sad fore- 
bodings of the colonists. 

Olinthus resolved to unravel this mystery. In eonsequence , 
one morning, he left his mother, whose anxious fears were as 
great as his own, and started in the direction of the Maximus 
Circus — in the neighborhood of which the house rented to 
Cecilius by Tongilianus was situated — with the determination 
not to return home, until he should have ascertained what 
had become of Cecilia. 

Upon reaching the crossing of the Triumphal Way, he saw 
a great crowd of people, and though little curious or inclined 
to tarry, he was compelled to stop, for the street was so 
completely obstructed that a consul’s lictors could not have 
succeeded in clearing the way. 

Olinthus inquired what was the cause of this gathering, 
and was told that two men were quarrelling and fighting. It 
was annoying to be detained by an incident of so little 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


97 


importance, and Olinthus would have turned away, when 
certain words spoken by a familiar voice made him start and 
awakened in him a sudden interest. 

It was the voice of Cecilius, and the words, accompanied 
by many curses, were these : 

You wretched vespillo ! infamous servant of Libitina ! 
Purveyor of Caron ! May the Styx ingulf you ! It is 
through you I have lost my daughter ! Take this ! and 
this !” 

The dull sound of blows were heard, followed by groans. 
Evidently, the vespillo was getting the v/orst of the fight. 

Olinthus upon hearing these words had pushed forward, 
elbowing his way through the dense crowd. He succeeded in 
reaching the front rank of spectators and saw that he had not 
mistaken the voice : Cecilius was belaboring a man who, 
although a stranger to Olinthus, was no other than our 
old acquaintance G-urges. 

When Cecilius fell senseless on his door step, after 
seeing his daughter carried off by her master, he was picked 
up and carried in by some neighbors who had witnessed 
the lamentable scene, the news of which soon spread about. 
Gurges, when he learned that Cecilia had been sold, became 
very indignant ; and, not dreaming that he had been the 
principal cause of this hateful transaction, hastened to the 
tax-gatherer’s house, to crush that unnatural father under the 
most vehement reproaches. 

But at the first word spoken by the vespillo, Cecilius 
recognizing him, had sprung up from the bed on which 
he was reclining overwhelmed with grief, and seizing a stick 
had struck the poor fellow three or four times with such vigor, 
that Gurges had sought safety in a precipitate flight. 

Cecilius animated by revenge had pursued him and brought 
him down with a tremendous blow across the legs. A crowd 
had immediately gathered around the fallen vespillo and his 
infuriated persecutor. The old man, incapable of appeasing 
his anger, was continuing to strike the helpless Gurges, 
when his arm was suddenly seized by an iron grip. It 
was Olinthus who had bounded near him and stayed his 
hand. 

“ Has your daughter ceased to live ?” he asked tremulously. 

‘ ‘ She lives, but it were better she were dead .... and 

9 


98 


AURELIA; OR, 


all owing to this wretch!’’ replied Cecilius, still furious^ 
although the sight of the insigna of Olinthus’ military 
rank caused him to pause. 

“What do you mean?” resumed the latter, pale and 
trembling with emotion. 

“ Cecilia is a slave 1” 

“ Cecilia a slave?” repeated Olinthus, with a cry of horror. 

“Yes, ... I sold her! . . .” said Cecilius gloomily. 
“I sold her to pay this wretch ! . . . . What is that to you, 
centurion ?” 

And as Olinthus, sinking under this terrible revelation, 
made no answer, Cecilius raised his stick to strike his victim 
once more. But Grurges, who had risen, avoided the blow, 
and the stick striking the pavement was broken by the shock . 

“Fool!” cried the vespillo. “You strike me, and there 
stands the man who has caused your daughter’s loss.” 

And he pointed at Olinthus. 

‘ ‘ This man the cause of my daughter’s loss ?” said the 
unhappy father, with stupor, “ how can that be ?’ ’ 

“ Don’t you see that it is Olinthus! . . . Yes, Olinthus 
the Jew, the Christian, . . . he who was to have married 
Cecilia!” 

“Olinthus! That man Olinthus ! Oh! . . .” 

Cecilius was unarmed, but his fingers clutched the centu- 
rion’s arm with such desperate violence that the sleeve of the 
latter’s fine white sagum was stained with blood. 

But Olinthus was another sort of adversary than Gurges. 
With one jerk he shook off Cecilius ; with one look he 
stopped all further aggression. 

“ Touch not the shield of the emperor!” he exclaimed in 
a commanding voice. 

And perceiving some hostile demonstrations in the crowd 
to whom he had been designated as a Jew, he drew from the 
scabbard his short, broad, Spanish sword, the bright blade 
of which flashed in the sun. 

“ Make way there !” he said, contemptuously. 

The words and the act awed all this multitude ; their 
ranks opened before the centurion. 

“Come,” said the latter, addressing Cecilius, “take me 
to your house.” 

Cecilius did like the crowd ; he obeyed. Gurges saw fit 
to follow them. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


99 


“ Tell me now,” said Olinthus, when they had reached 
the tax-gatherer’s house. *‘What has happened ? what have 
you done ? where is your daughter 

‘ ‘ I sold Cecilia because I owed this man ten thousand 
sestertii, which I could not pay,” replied Cecilius, designating 
Gurges. But,” he added, looking firmly at the centurion, 
" ‘ I would have given myself up if my daughter had con- 
sented to renounce those accursed Jews to whom you be- 
long. . . .” 

' ‘ Oh my God, I thank you 1” thought Olinthus. ^ ‘ Cecilia 
has remained strong in your faith and your name, which 
s!ie has confessed 1” 

“Wretched father!” he resumed, turning to Cecilius, 
“ (lid not the thought strike you that those accursed Jews 
would have saved your daughter by paying this man ?” 

" ‘ And the Pontiffs who claimed twenty thousand sestertii 
for the sacrilege against Jugatinus? And my place?” Ce- 
eilius asked. 

Olinthus not understanding this, made him relate all the 
circumstances with which we have acquainted the reader. 

“ I am much deceived,” said the centurion, “ if you are 
not the victim of some villainous plot. But, at all events, 
the twenty thousand sestertii would have been paid to the 
pontiffs. As for your employment, do you think that Flavia 
Domitilla would have left the father of Cecilia, whom she 
loves dearly, in want ? such was not her project ! . . unhappy 
father I” added Olinthus in a commiserating and sorrowful 
tone. “ How much harm you have done because you would 
not come to those Jews so odious and despised.” 

Cecilius, crushed by remorse, overwhelmed by the shame 
of his act, and his heart torn by the thought of his daughter, 
bowed his head under the weight of those simple words, and 
could not find words either to complain or to accuse. 

Gurges, a silent witness to this scene of woe, seemed much 
embarrassed. The unfortunate vespillo, first, but involuntary 
cause of the young girl’s misfortune, felt that all was over 
with him. His unlucky passion had brought him disdainful 
refusals, bitter disappointments, and, at last, a severe beating 
from which his bruised limbs were still smarting. Moreover, 
he felt that Cecilius and Olinthus despised him. 

But Gurges was a good-natured fellow. He still felt a 


100 


AURELIA; OR, 


great tenderness for this young girl whom he had hoped to 
make his wife, and he swore, in his heart, to devote himself 
to rescuing her from her sad fate, if it could still he done. 

So, when the centurion exclaimed : 

“ This is not the time to shed tears. Cecilia must be 
rescued from the hands of that villain ! I shall do it !” 

Grurges approached timidly, and taking Olinthus by the 
hand : 

“Allow me,^’ he said, “to assist you in this task. All I 
possess is yours to redeem this young girl and to restore her 
to her father.’^ 

“Thank you,’’ replied the centurion, moved by so much 
devotion. “You are a worthy young man, and I accept 
your assistance. Let us go together to see this Parmenon. 
He will have to give us back Cecilia !” 

The two young men departed, leaving Cecilius, who, his 
hands raised to heaven, was making vows for their success 

Olinthus and Gurges thought that a single visit to the 
slave-dealer’s tavern in the Villa-pxiblica, would suffice for 
a satisfactory settlement of this matter. Parmenon could 
not refuse to give up Cecilia, when tendered his ten thousand 
sestertii and a suitable additional amount. This transaction 
was the most natural thing in the world, there could arise no 
difficulty. 

The two young men walked on chatting hopefully about 
Cecilia; what joy and gratitude she would feel when she 
would see herself delivered by them I 

“It is to me she will owe her salvation!” Gurges was 
saying. “ It will doubtless be for your benefit, but, at least, 
I shall have some title to her friendship, and this is a good 
deal for me 1” 

“My dear Gurges,” Olinthus would reply, “when Cecilia 
will be my wife, we shall ever remember together your 
generous assistance.” 

Gurges was not without feeling a certain sadness when 
Olinthus spoke of his approaching marriage with Cecilia ; but 
when he compared his own mournful garb to the brilliant 
uniform of the young centurion, he could not blame the young 
girl’s choice. 

“ By Venus Libitina I” he would say to himself, with rare 
modesty^ and touching candor ; ‘ ‘I think I would have done 
as she did, had I been in her place.” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


101 


"When the two young men reached Parmenon’s tavern, 
they found that worthy walking up and down in front of his 
vacant platform. 

It had been agreed between Cecilia’s future liberators, 
that Gurges would be the spokesman. This arrangement 
flattered the vespillo’s vanity. It was natural and proper 
that he should be the negotiator, since he was the original 
holder of the claim of which Parmenon had made such 
treacherous use, and since he was to advance the ten thousand 
sestertii required for Cecilia’s liberation. 

We say “advanced,” for Olinthus had accepted the offer 
only as a temporary loan. 

Gurges, giving his features the most amiable expression, 
approached the slave-dealer with a graceful bow, and said : 

“My dear Parmenon, I come to repay you your ten 
thousand sestertii.” 

‘ ‘ What does this vespillo want with me ?” said Parmenon 
disdainfully ; and he resumed his walk. 

“ This vespillo is Gurges,” replied Libitina’s agent with a 
certain pride; “Gurges, who comes with this centurion, 
to claim a young girl named Cecilia.” 

“Ah! very well!” quote Parmenon, and a singular 
smile hovered on his lips. “Only the pretention seems 
to me rather bold.” 

“ What difiiculty can there be ?” asked Gurges. 

“ Only this, that I do not wish to sell her to you,” replied 
the trader. 

“But,” said Olinthus, seized with a vague anxiety, 
“ there is no question of sale here. This young girl 
was transferred to you in guarantee of a claim which Gurges 
is ready to satisfy at this very moment. It seems to me that 
the debt being cancelled, the girl given in pledge must 
be returned to us.” 

“Centurion, do you know the proverb?” replied the 
slave-trader with insolence: “We sutor ultra crepidam. 
Let not the shoemaker go beyond his last. Which means 
that you may be a very gallant soldier, but you understand 
little about this sort of business 1” 

‘ ‘ None of your impertinence !” exclaimed Olinthus in a 
threatening tone ; “ Come, is it a profit you want ? Name 
the sum!” 9* 


102 


jl JJREIj i-A. j ORf 


“I am an honest man,” replied Parmenon, “and I 
need no pay to do what I should and what I will.” 

“ Then, why refuse to return this young girl to her father, 
who sent us to claim her ?” 

“I will not return her, because her father sold her to me, 
and being therefore her master, I have the right to keep her 
if I see proper. Is this clear, centurion ?” 

“ Moreover,” he added, “ to guard against any difficulty 
that may arise, I have had the act drawn up by the antestat. 
Here it is, you can satisfy yourself that it is regular.” 

Olinthus and Gurges remained dumfounded before this 
irrefragable proof. This act formed an unconquerable 
obstacle. The distress of the two young men could easily 
be detected in the paleness which spread over their features, 
and the involuntary trembling of their limbs. 

“ I double the amount !” cried at last Gurges. 

“ No, amiable vespillo, it cannot be done.” 

‘ ‘ I treble it 1” said Olinthus. 

“No, Centurion.” 

‘ ‘ One hundred thousand sestertii ! . . . Upon my sword 
I swear you shall have them !” 

“No, no, a thousand times no!” replied Parmenon un- 
moved. 

Nothing remained but to kneel at this man’s feet and 
beg him to relent from his inexorable resolve ; but Olinthus 
understood that it would be abasing himself uselessly. 

He withdrew, followed by Gurges, who shook his fist 
at Parmenon and swore that he would save Cecilia. 

“ Centurion,” cried the impudent slave-dealer when the 
two young men were at some distance; “and you, amiable 
vespillo, you can come both 1 You, Primipilar, with your 
cohort, and you, vespillo, with your corpse-eaters I I await 
you, and am prepared to receive you 1” 

When Olinthus returned among his brethren and told them : 

“Cecilia is a slave ! Cecilia has been strong in her faith ! 
Cecilia has been sold by her father 1” 

This news caused a wail of lamentation in the whole tribe, 
mingled with thanks to God who had given this young 
girl strength to sufier for His name and to glorify Him by her 
servitude. Then came a touching scene. These poor people 
hastened to bring all they possessed of any value, to Olinthus, 


THE JEWS OF CAPENxi GATE. 


103 


beseeching him to accept their offerings, in order that 
their sister might he redeemed and not remain in the hands 
of the wretch who, master of her body, might at a future day 
become master of her soul. 

The mothers, followed by their children, brought the 
poor furniture of their homes and their humble garments, to 
be sold for making up Cecilia’s ransom. The maidens 
sacrificed joyfully their, simple ornaments and the few jewels 
their modesty permitted them to wear. 

As for the men, they offered their strong arms. They 
would go with Olinthus to tear down and burn Parmcnon’s 
tavern, and rescue Cecilia from the flames and ruins ! 

“ Thanks, sisters,” Olinthus would say, addressing the 
women, “ thanks for your charity and your love ! I had not 
misjudged them when I offered Parmenon one hundred 
thousand sestertii for Cecilia.” 

“ Well?” cried a thousand voices, 

“ Well, he refused,” said Olinthus with despair. “ But I 
have you, 0 my brethren,” the centurion continued, turning 
to the men, ‘ ‘ and with you Cecilia cannot be lost ! Yes ! we 
will go and rescue our sister from this wretcli^, wo will 
give her back to her father and to her G-od !” 

“ Let us go ! Let us go !” was the unanimous cry. 

“Yes, let us go!” repeated Olinthus. “Our cause is 
holy and God will bless it 1” » 

‘ ‘ Your cause is impious, and God would turn away 
from you 1” said a voice, which all heard, and at which 
all stopped. 

It was the voice of the Pontiff who had just arrived, having 
heard the rumor of Cecilia’s misfortune. 

“My children,” resumed the venerable priest, with 
severity, “since when was violence permitted to the disciples 
of Christ ? When did they learn to trample upon the laws ? 
Centurion, was it to sustain or to overthrow them that the 
Emperor gave you this sword ?” 

A deep silence had succeeded to the tumult. These men but 
now so impetuous, remained silent and collected, listening tfi 
the voice whose authority they respected. 

“ Father,” spoke at last Olinthus in a respectful tone, “ is 
not the law odious which robs a father of his daughter? 
Must we permit that our sister perish in slavery? Does 
Christ recognize masters and slaves ?” 


104 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ My son,” replied the Pontiff, “ Christ inspires feelings 
of humanity and kindness which will cause slavery to 
disappear in the course of time ; but He has never said to the 
slave : ‘thou shalt revolt against thy master,’ nor to the 
citizens : ‘You will tear down, with violence, that which 
exists.’ Await patiently then, the designs of Grod, and 
however unjust and barbarous institutions may be, respect 
them until His breath shall destroy them ! Let us teach the 
master charity towards his slaves, let us teach the world that 
all men are brothers, and the spirit of God will do the 
rest. Renounce, then, all design of rescuing Cecilia by 
force, from the master God has given her. It is the law ! 
Learn to submit to it !” 

Olinthus bowed to the wisdom of the holy interpreter of 
the religion of Christ, although he felt his blood boiling 
in his veins and his heart ready to burst with suppressed 
grief. Yet, he could not help exclaiming sorrowfully : 

“ 0 father ! father! Cecilia is then lost forever 1” 

“ No, Olinthus!” said Petronilla who had come near him. 
“I have the confident hope that this child who, alone among 
us, has had the happiness to sacrifice herself for God, will be 
returned to you by His almighty hand ! Let us go to Flavia 
Homitilla ; she has authority enough to conquer this man’s 
refusal, treasures enough to tempt his avarice.” 

“Go, my son,” said the Pontiff, “this is just and 
permitted. During your absence, I shall lift up my hands to 
God and I trust my prayers will be heard.” 

“ >Ye shall all pray for your success,” cried all these men 
and women, filled with holy enthusiasm, and they followed 
the steps of the pontiff. 

Flavia Domitilla offered Parmenon an enormous sum of 
money if he would relinquish his rights on the young girl. 

Parmenon remained immovable. 

The Consul Flavius Clemens, himself, interfered, now 
beseeching the slave-trader, now threatening him with all his 
authority. 

Parmenon was undisturbed by threats and prayers. He 
showed the law to the Consul, and quietly told him that 
he intended to preserve and defend his legal rights. 

The reader has, doubtless, already suspected that Marcus 
Regulus was behind Parmenon and maintained him in 
this obstinacy. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


105 


^‘See,” the astute plotter would say to his vile tool; 
“how all these Jews are coming to us ! Oh ! I shall obtain 
all their secrets through that young girl I Their millions of 
sestertii ! ... It is laughable ! Will not the Emperor give 
them to me? . : . And, besides, am I not rich enough? 
What I want is power, honors, and I shall have them. Par- 
menon, you wretch, if you falter I will turn you over to the 
pretor !” 

There was a terrible secret between Regulus and Par- 
menon. Elavia Domitilla and Flavius Clemens struggled 
vainly to overcome this unknown obstacle. 

But were the laws of Rome so barbarous that they admitted 
the violation of the first law of nature ? Would not a court 
of justice annul this abominable contract by which a father 
had sold his child ! 

Pliny-the-Younger, the noble and brilliant pleader^ and 
Pegasus, the great jurisconsult, were called upon to solve 
these momentous questions. Both were filled with indigna- 
tion; both replied that long since Rome had ceased to 
see such shameful outrages, and promised that this monstrous 
deed of sale should be cancelled. 

It was determined that Cecilius would claim his daughter 
before the tribunal of Recuperators. 

Parmenon was duly summoned to appear. 

Marcus Regulus prepared himself for the important struggle 
about to commence. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A CHAPTER ON ROMAN LAW. 

T hree things had been treated by the Roman legislator 
with the same dryness of heart and inflexibility of spirit, 
although two were animated by the breath of God, and the 
third might be vivified by the thought of man. 

These three things were : the child, the slave, and the soil. 
All three corresponded to a solitary centre, the master — 
(dominiis,') the keystone of the Roman legislation, which 
held them by the same title and with the same inviolable 
power. 


106 


AURELIA; OR, 


In the beginning, the right of property had been the 
material possession of things ; later, when it received a legal 
definition, the transfer to a third party required a second 
taking possession hy the hand, the symbol and instrument of 
all human power. 

Thence, the mancipation, an unique form of sale, whose 
etymology — manu capere — indicates sufficiently the brutal 
meaning. 

The child, the slave, the soil were mancipated ; that is the 
hand of the purchaser seized these three things with the 
same energy and the same immutable right. This new 
right made the child, the slave, and the soil equally the 
property of the master until he chose to transfer them by 
another mancipation. 

But, the more precious the thing, the less easily the 
original right could cease. 

Thus, land once mancipated ceased to belong to its owner. 
The same with the slave, unless he was set free, for the 
power of the master extended beyond emancipation, through 
the rights of patronage and certain obligatory services im- 
posed on the freedman. 

But, over the child, the essential property, the power of 
the father never ceased entirely. Set free by the master 
who had bought it, it became again, legally, the property of 
the father, who could sell it an indefinite number of times. 

Such was the law framed by the inflexible genius of 
Romulus. The law of the Twelve-Tables did not change 
this, but it limited the rights of the father on his son to three 
mancipations, after which the son was completely free from 
paternal authority. Si pater filium ter venumduit, filius a 
patre liber esto. 

As for the daughter, a single mancipation was sufficient to 
liberate her. The Roman legislation set little value on 
woman. 

The son sold by his father sufiFered all the rigors of slavery. 
The only consolation reserved in his favor, by the law, was 
that he remained ingenuous and even a Roman citizen by 
right, whilst a slave in fact. 

In order to understand the influence of Christianity on a 
society where such a legislation existed, we must cast a look 
on the reign of Augustus, the luminous point between the 


THE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 107 

greatest height of the Roman power, and its approaching 
fall. 

Like the god Janus who opened the year, and whose 
double face contemplated the past and looked into the future, 
Augustus saw all the splendors of the republic, and the fore- 
shadow of the dark days of the empire. 

Before him all is bright, glorious, wonderful civilization ; 
after him darkness, abasement, universal barbarism. 

And nevertheless, what occurs during this resplendent 
period of the republic and this declining period of the empire ? 
What is thought of the child ? what is done with the slave ? 
what becomes of the soil ? 

Until Augustus’ time all remains mute, plunged in the 
immutability of death. 

Omnia muta 

Omnia sunt deserta, ostentant omnia mortem. 

After Augustus, and all at once, the child takes his place 
at the family hearth, the slave becomes again a man_, the soil 
thrills under the first touch of the spirit which will animate it. 

Up to that time there had been^ doubtless, great poets, 
eminent historians^ orators, philosophers and jurisconsults ; 
yet what voice spoke in favor of the child, of the slave, of 
the soil, even ? who mourned over this treble captivity ? who 
condemned these institutions ? 

Among those Romans who glorified Brutus and Manlius 
Torquatus for the .murder of their children, and who looked 
upon the slave as a being assimilated to the brute creation, 
there were, doubtless, fathers truly worthy of that name, and 
really kind masters. Individual virtues were not Avanting in 
the republic ; and there could not be found in the corrupt 
times of the empire such a large number of citizens remark- 
able for the excellence of their private life. 

But this fact only gives more weight to our remarks. 
How is it that these virtuous republicans did not improve the 
legal status of their children, that they did not admit thnt 
the slave was a man, that they did not understand that the 
soil, though an inert matter could be ruled by the will. 

And how is it that the Romans of the decline, so miserably 
plunged in vice, should have suddenly ri.sen above the brutal 
traditions of their ancestors ; amAhat the first cries so Ling 
expected by suffering humanity should have been heard in 


108 


AURELiA; OR, 


their poetry, in their history, in their philosophy and their 
legislation ? Strange contradiction ! it was during the time 
of Nero, of Yitellius and Domitian, that these mysterious 
voices were heard which, condemning the past, prepared the 
future. 

It seems as if Providence purposedly left an interval be- 
tween the reign of Augustus when there still lived the memory 
of ancient virtues, and the time when these would disappear 
under the influence of the monstrous vices of his successors, 
in order to show more clearly whence came these new doc- 
trines and what was their heavenly origin. 

It is, in fact, only when Peter appeared in Rome, when 
Paul spoke these great words “'My Brethren,” that we see 
this hardness softening, the heart opening to the novel feel- 
ings of loving kindness, and the books and the law becoming 
at last the faint echo of this strange language, so different 
from what had hitherto existed. 

The hour of God had come after that of man. He 
resumed the task which had baffled human wisdom, and as the 
first act of his presence. He imposed on these generations 
born of injustice, and stationary in their egotism, the omni- 
potence of equality. 

Thought prevailed on the ruins of form, and science be- 
came profound enough to be Christian. The jurisconsults 
prepared the emancipation of matter by making the mind and 
will of man prevail in his agreements ; to them are due the 
glory and usefulness of those principles by virtue of which 
our modern society, unfettered and performing all its acts in 
the name of intellect, transmits the soil and all other things 
without having to touch them with the hand and casting them 
off like an uncomfortable garment. 

Yet, amidst this breaking of fetters, the child, like the 
slave and the soil, was to retain the seal of servitude, from 
which triumphant Christianity alone could free the world. 

No voice had yet been raised, strong and courageous 
enough to prohibit the sale of children by their father, for, the 
first text containing this great prohibition is a constitution of 
the emperors Piocletian and Maximian. This text upon 
examination, however, is found to admit a fact established by 
usage, rather than proclaint a prohibition no longer needed. 

Such was the grave interest of the question to be discussed 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


109 


before the tribunal of the Recuperators, in connection with 
Cecilia’s sale by her father. 

On one side was the formal and pitiless text of the Law of 
the Twelve Tables, so long observed, forming part of the fun- 
damental law of Rome, and which had never been abrogated 
or even modified by any contrary legislation. 

On the other, the general feeling, public indignation, the 
voluntary abandoning of a barbarous law, and the secret but 
certain tendencies of the public mind towards generous idea* 
more worthy of man and of the sanctity of family ties. 

Would these considerations prevail against a law which had 
once been deemed just and necessary? 

And if usage and morals, which may sometimes transform 
the law through long and universal practice, were invoked, 
would they be powerful enough and sufficiently in conformity 
with Roman reason, to triumph over a positive text and to 
erase it from the brazen Tables deposited in the Capitol under 
the custody of the protecting god of the empire ? 


CHAPTER IX. 

BEFORE THE PRETOR. 

T he Pretor decided summarily, cases of little importance 
or of easy proof, as we have seen an example in the case 
of Parmenon’s claim against Cecilius. But in grave cases 
such as when a citizen claimed as his own a thing in the pos- 
session of another party, the latter upon being summoned 
was obliged to produce into court the thing claimed, in order 
that the plaintiff might identify it and that there should not 
be, therefore, any possible error as to the object in litigation. 

This preparatory proceeding was a necessary formality 
which preceded all trial. It gave rise to singular, and as in 
Cecilia’s case, painful scenes, on account of the struggle 
which it was customary for the contending parties to engage, 
assisted by their witnesses and their friends — the plaintiff 
endeavoring to wrench the thing claimed from his opponent’s 
hands, and ^he latter resisting with the same energy. 

10 


110 


AURELIA; OR, 


The Pretor then feigned to perceive the quarrel going on 
under his eyes. He ordered the contending parties to be 
separated and brought before him. He then heard their 
respective arguments, and generally decided that the possessor 
should retain the thing, until further trial, but should deposit 
with his adversary a guarantee equivalent to the value of his 
claim. 

Subsequently to this first hearing, the plaintiff’s demand 
was again examined, and the Pretor sent the case for trial 
before three Recuperators designated by him. The questions 
upon which this tribunal was to decide were submitted by the 
Pretor, thirty-days after the first hearing. 

The suit brought for the recovery of Cecilia was of too 
great importance for the formalities required by law not to be 
strictly and rigorously complied with. 

Consequently, on the day appointed, the Pretor Publius 
Aufidius Namusa proceeded to the Forum and took his seat 
on the permanent tribunal of the urban pretorship, which 
was situated at the eastern end of the place, a little below and 
to the left of the Arch of Fabius. 

A large and tumultuous crowd had already assembled 
in the Forum to enjoy the moving spectacle of the struggle 
between a father and the man who had robbed him of his 
daughter ; and to gloat upon the tears and despair of the 
child. In all times there has been found people eager to 
contemplate with morbid curiosity the sorrows of others. 

We shall seek among this crowd, the persons directly 
interested in the case at issue. 

We find near the tribunal, Cecilius, clad in the garments 
of a suppliant and with his hair smeared with ashes. It 
is easy to read on his careworn face the cruel emotions 
that fill his breast at this solemn hour. Near him stands his 
lawyer, the celebrated Pliny-the-Younger. He is there to 
assist the wretched father in his sad trial ; and he endeavors 
in vain to teach him the dignity and moderation which 
the occasion demands. 

Not far from these, stands Olinthus accompanied by a few 
of his brethren and by some pious women who have come 
to sustain his courage, and to comfort Cecilia by their presence 
and their sympathetic tears. A dark gloom overspreads 
the handsome features of the young centurion ; but, never- 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


Ill 


theless, a gleam of liope anon brightens his eyes from which 
the happy light of old has flown. 

The devoted Gurges has not failed to come to the Forum. 
He has brought with him some of his men, and now and 
then gives them his instructions, in a low voice but with 
considerable warmth. His project is to take advantage of 
the heat of the struggle to give a sound beating to the hateful 
Parmenon. 

This illegal intervention is certainly derogatory to the 
dignity of the Pretor and the respect due to justice ; but 
it will be a great consolation for Gurges, and, in truth, 
we have not the heart to censure the poor vespillo. 

As for Parmenon and his victim, they have not yet made 
their appearance in the Forum. But Marcus Regulus is 
sneaking through the crowd, and the inference is that the 
slave-dealer cannot be far. 

Marcus Begulus has declared openly that he would take up 
Parmenon’s case, and appear in person, to plead before 
the Pretor. This has surprised no one, for the case is 
shameful enough to suit Begulus, even if he did not have 
a more direct personal interest in its issue — a fact, however, 
not generally known. 

But Cecilius, Pliny-the-Younger, Olinthus and all Cecilia’s 
friends are well aware that he is the cause of the young 
girl’s misfortune, although they do not suspect the secret 
motives of his persecution. • 

Regulus manages to not come too near the old man and 
his friends, for he augurs little good from their threatening 
looks. 

After some delay, which only increased the feverish 
curiosity of the crowd, Parmenon made his appearance with 
Cecilia, and surrounded by a numerous escort. He had 
evidently sought to make an insolent display of his right 
©f brutal possession. The young girl was led forward like a 
victim ready for the sacrifice. She wore the coarse tunic 
of the slaves, and her hands were tightly bound together with 
a rope, the end of which was held by one of Parmenon’s 
men. 

Four months had elapsed since the poor child had ^allen 
into the power of this wretch ; for, notwithstanding the zeal 
and activity of her friends, the tedious delays of judicial 


112 


AUREllA; OR, 


proceedings, protracted by the efforts of Regulus, could not 
be overcome. Her person bore the evidence of the cruel 
sufferings to which she had been subjected. Her face 
was pale and thin, the bloom of youth and beauty had already 
faded away. And yet she found sweet smiles for the 
dear beings she saw in the crowd. 

At the sight of his daughter, a loud cry escaped from 
the Tax-gather’s lips, and with one bound he was near 
her, clasping her in his arms, and calling upon the gods 
to restore her to him. 

Parmenon seized Cecilius round his waist and endeavored 
to wrench him from his daughter’s embrace, but all his 
strength could not move the old man who stood immovable 
like a bronze statue. 

Oliiithus drew his short sword, and the bonds which 
held his betrothed captive fell to the ground, cut in twain. 

Meanwhile, Gurges was performing wonders. Already 
Parmenon’s escort had been dispersed by the vespillo and his 
stout companions ; the wretch, himself, struggling vainly, 
was about to succumb under their blows. For a single 
instant Cecilia found herself free, in the midst of her friends I 
But the Pretor has spoken in the name of the law ; the lictors 
lower their fasces over the young girl’s head, and the 
struggle ceases. 

All bowed to the majesty of justice and the respect due to 
the popular and feared Boman magistrate. 

Regulus only waited for this intervention, and Pliny-the- 
Younger, himself, asked that the case should proceed with the 
calmness and moderation which should accompany judicial 
decisions. 

Publius Aufidius Namusa, then called upon the two 
adversaries to come forward and state their difference. 
Cecilius making an effort to overcome his emotion, stood 
up before the Pretor, and declared that he had come to 
claim his daughter unjustly held by Parmenon. 

The latter replied that the thing vindicated was indeed the 
daughter of Cecilius, but that the latter, by a regular act of 
mancipation, had transferred all his rights upon her to 
him, Parmenon. 

He appealed to the testimony of the five witnesses to 
the sale, by whom he had taken care to be accompanied ; and 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


113 


he placed before the Pretor, the act of mancipation drawn up 
by the antestat. 

It was now the duty of the two lawyers to present the 
question in its legal character. 

Pliny-the-Younger, in a short improvisation, set forth : 
“That the fact of Cecilia’s mancipation to Parmenon was not 
disputed — it was unfortunately but too certain ; but that, in 
law, this mancipation could not hold good, for two reasons : 
First, because the sale of a daughter by her father should be 
deemed null and void according to the spirit of the new 
Roman laws ; second, because, even if it were valid in 
law, it should be set aside on the ground that Cecilius 
had been subjected to influences and made to entertain 
fears which controlled his will and destroyed the liberty of his 
consent.” 

“When the time comes,” added Pliny-the-Younger, and 
his penetrating glance was fixed on Regulus, “ I shall prove 
these facts by uncontrovertible testimony. For the present, 
all the Pretor must needs know, is that the object of the 
action we claim the right to bring, is to attack the principle 
of an abominable sale, and, at all events, to oppose to it 
the exception quod metus causa'^ which suffices to viciate 
radically any convention. 

Marcus Regulus knew very well that whatever the grounds 
of opposition taken against Cecilius’ claim, the Pretor would 
not fail to authorize the trial. Assuming, therefore, an air 
of ease, he replied that he would make no opposition to the 
trial demanded by Cecilius ; that he would show, when the 
time should come, that the sale was perfectly valid, both in 
law and from having been freely consented by the father ; 
but that he protested against the allegation that Cecilius had 
been subjected to any undue influence or terror. He there- 
fore, demanded that, provisionally, the young girl purchased 
and paid for by Parmenon, a legally authorized slave- 
dealer, should be adjudged to the latter and remain in his 
possession. 

Pliny-the-Younger endeavored to obtain that Cecilia should 


* The exception quod metus causa could be filed whenever one of the parties 
to a contract alleged that at the time said contract was made, he was under 
the influence of a real fear which impairing or destroying his liberty of judg- 
ment, prevented consent. 

10 * 


114 


AURELIA; OR, 


be placed in the care of a third party, during the litigation ; 
but the mancipation not having been attacked in its form, and 
having the conditions of an authentic act, the Pretor decided 
that Parmenon should not be deprived of the services of his 
slave, unless by a final sentence of the court annulling the 
sale. 

Cecilia was therefore adjudged to Parmenon. Then, the 
Pretor sent the party before the tribunal of the Recuperators, 
but reserved a delay of thirty days to prepare the form of 
trial. 

Parmenon, protected by the magistrate’s lictors, wished to 
enjoy the brutal satisfaction of insulting the sorrow of his 
adversaries, by replacing on Cecilia’s wrists, the bonds cut 
by Olinthus. He proceeded to perform this task slowly, in 
the Forum, defying the anger of those who threatened him, 
and laughing at the tears which his cruelty drew from the 
eyes of the bystanders. 

Cecilius gave vent to his grief in heart-rending groans ; 
Olinthus, whilst invoking Heaven, could not restrain his 
tears ; Gurgcs and his gloomy escort moved about excitedly, 
as if possessed by the furies. The poor Vespillo had again 
threatened the slave-dealer, and would have assailed him, but 
for the presence of the Pretor, and the fear that Parmenon 
would revenge himself upon his helpless slave, of the out- 
rages he might be made to suffer. 

The most indifferent spectators were astonished at Cecilia’s 
calm resignation. With voice and look, she comforted her 
father and her friends, and encouraged them with the hope 
that God would not forsake her. 

When she departed with her master, the people opened 
their ranks, and showered their marks of sympathy upon her, 
whilst they followed Parmenon with their curses. 

The crowd then surrounded Pliny-the-Younger. He was 
asked whether he would succeed in cancelling this barbarous 
contract ; a touching appeal was made to his well known 
eloquence, and they conjured him to save C^pcilia and restore 
her to her father. 

Some voices inquired threateningly for Regulus, but the 
wretch had already disappeared from the Forum. 

Such was the first act of this judicial drama, in describing 
which we have endeavored to give our readers a glimpse of 
the Roman customs. 


THE JEWS OF CAPEFA GATE. 


115 


CHAPTER X. 

THE TRIBUNAL OF THE RECUPERATORS. 

T he second act was to be unraveled before the tribunal of 
tbe Recuperators. The three judges having no special 
court-house for their sittings, had met, as we have already 
stated, in the basilica Julia, the place Avherc the Centumvirs 
generally assembled, and which from its vast dimensions, 
would permit them to give more publicity to the important 
trial. 

The Pretor Aufidius Namusa had traced the form to bo fol- 
lowed in rendering the judgment. It embraced the double 
hypothesis of the gain or loss of the suit by Cecilius, for the 
judges were invariably bound to adhere to the precise course 
indicated by. the Pretor. 

This formula or charge read as follows : ‘ ‘ Caius Sulpi- 

cius Numerius — Aulus Agerius Ursidio— Publius Horten- 
sius Niger. Be ye Judges. — If it appears that Cecilius did 
sell his daughter to Parmenon, declare that Cecilia belongs 
to the latter by the law of the Quirites. If it does not ap- 
pear, condemn Parmenon to restore Cecilia to her father. 

“If it appears that Cecilius consented to the contract only 
through fear, declare that it is null and void ; if it does not 
appear, condemn Cecilius to leave his daughter in Parmenon’s 
hands.” 

Marcus Regulus had prepared himself with great care, for 
the coming struggle ; but yet, he was not without fears as to 
the result of the trial. 

Cecilius and his daughter were only poor people, it is true ; 
but they had powerful protectors in the consul Flavius 
Clemens, the two Flavia Domitillas, and the young Caesars, 
Vespasian and Domitian ; would not the judges be swayed by 
these influences ? If the Emperor had not been absent from 
Rome, Regulus would have felt no serious anxiety ; but 
Domitian was in Dacia, absorbed in the cares of a dangerous 
war, and it had been impossible to solicit his intervention in 
a matter of whose importance for his secret designs he was 
ignorant. Regulus had tried to have the trial postponed, but 
Pliny, who foresaw the danger, had thwarted him. On the 


116 


AURELIA; OR, 


other hand, Regulus was aware that this case had roused the 
public indignation ; that he was suspected of being the prime ^ 
mover in it ; and he feared that the hatred accumulated in 
every heart, against him, might excite the judges to decide 
in favor of his adversary. As, however, he had the law on 
his side, he resolved to brave all those threats, to crush those 
adverse influences and to triumph, even if he had to look to 
Tartarus for support. 

No promises, no means were spared to influence the judges, 
and as a last resort, the astute lawyer evoked the threatening 
image of the stern Domitian, by spreading the rumor that 
this trial was a question between the Emperor and the Chris- 
tians, between the imperial power and the secret tendencies 
of this odious sect ! 

The interior of the basilica Julia presented an imposing 
spectacle. Circular benches had been put up, in advance, to 
accommodate the multitude, at. a certain distance from the 
seats {subselUa) reserved for the judges, the lawyers and the 
parties. 

The seats of the judges were placed on a semi-circular 
platform from which they could command a full view of the 
assemblage. Those of the lawyers were a little lower ; the 
plaintiff occupying the right and the defendant the left of the 
magistrates. 

Further back, and on a still higher stand than that ot the 
judges, was the curule chair of the Pretor. This magistrate 
never took part in the trials where he had designated the j udges, 
but his empty chair was there to remind that, whether absent 
or present, justice was always rendered in his name. To 
this effect, there was placed in front of the curule chair, a 
pike, (hasta,) and a sword, the emblems of command, (im- 
periuin,) and of strength. 

Not far from the seats of the lawyers, were placed the 
clepsydra by which the duration of the pleadings was 
measured. The clepsydra was a vessel somewhat in the 
shape of a funnel, from the minute hole of which the water 
escaped slowly. It took twenty minutes for a clepsydra to be 
emptied. The number of times it should be filled during a 
lawyer’s speech was determined in advance. This number 
could be increased, the opposite party consenting. This was 
styled “ granting water” (dare aqtcam,) which was not quite 
the same thing as giving force and eloquence to the speech. 


TUE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


117 


The lawyers were very careful not to waste the water they 
had obtained. During the reading of documents or other 
interruptions, they never failed to ask the crier to hold the 
water (sustinere aquam,') which was done by stopping the 
hole at the bottom of the clepsydra with the finger, in order 
that the water measured for the speech should not flow use- 
lessly. 

Regulus never objected to the number of clepsydras con- 
sumed by his adversaries. It is true that he claimed recipro- 
cal indulgence and made an enormous abuse of it. 

Albeit, on the day of trial Regulus was ready for the 
struggle he had to sustain against Pliny-the- Younger. He 
had prepared himself for it with the superstition which it 
was his wont to mix with his most trifling acts, and he had 
not failed to consult the auspices. He had even been con- 
siderate enough to warn Pliny-the-Younger that these 
auspices were favorable to him, and consequently threatening 
for his (Pliny’s) case. 

“ So be it,” Pliny had simply replied, “ we shall see.” 

The celebrated lawyer had acted with the greatest reserve, 
since the beginning of the suit. He knew that he was 
watched by his adversary’s spies, and that advantage would 
be taken of the most trifling circumstance. Accordingly, he 
had shut himself up in absolute silence and lived in the most 
complete retirement. This course made Regulus feel very 
uneasy, for he had had occasion to learn, at his own expense 
the magnificence and power of Pliny-the-Younger’s voice, 
when he concentrated, by study and preparation all the resources 
of his extraordinary talent and admirable eloquence. 

Caius-Sulpicius-Numerius, Aulus-Agerius-Ursidio and 
Publius-Hortensius Niger, the judges designated by the 
Pretor, having taken their seats in the court, their criers 
(acensia) or ushers proclaimed silence in the assembly. 

Pliny-the-Younger then rose to open the case. It had 
been decided, the case being one of peculiar importance, 
that the lawyers should be entitled to as many clepsydras as 
would absorb the day’s sitting of the court. Pliny, who was 
to have the closing reply, reserved his most crushing argu- 
ments for that occasion, and confined himself during this first 
attack, to the points involving the nullity of the monstrous 
contract by which a young girl had been deprived of her 
liberty. 


118 


AURELIA; OR, 


With all the science of a great jurisconsult, and the elo- 
quence of a brilliant orator, heightened by the burning 
indignation of a noble heart, he explained how the legislation 
which gave such impious rights to parents over tlieir chil- 
dren, after subsisting too long, was at last disappearing un U r 
the double influence of public opinion and of the highest 
intellects among the jurisconsults, who repudiated it openly 
as barbarous and inhuman. 

The admirable picture which he traced of the condition of 
public morals, of the disposition of the public mind and its 
tendency to more generous ideas, was so powerful in ener- 
getic simplicity and virtuous splendor, that when ri>ing 
almost to sublimity, he beseeched the judges to associate 
themselves with this great movement towards a new life, and 
to let the iniquities of former days be buried with the past, 
the whole assemblage was carried away and interrupted him 
by their cries of enthusiasm and a thunder of applaus •. 

Marcus Kegulus, meanwhile, raised his hands to heaven as 
if protesting against these attacks on the tutelary institutions 
of the empire. The large black bandage which concealed 
half of his face, gave still more expression to the play of tlie 
uncovered features, upon which surprise and indignation 
were admirably depicted. 

When Pliny-the-Younger came to speak of the influences 
which had controlled the free will of Cecilius, he was design- 
edly very concise. He demonstrated clearly, and by means 
of the most elementary principles of law, that Cecilius, 
harrassed in every direction by Parmenon’s claim which 
threatened his liberty, by the letter of the city-prefect which 
made him fear for his last resources, and by the citation of 
the Pontiffs which placed him under the terror of an accusa- 
tion of sacrilege, liad necessarily given way, losing the 
consciousness of his own acts, and betrayed himself and his 
daughter with a facility that he would certainly not have 
shown, had he enjoyed his ordinary calmness of mind and 
coolness of judgment. 

“And I suppose,” proceeded the speaker, covering 
Marcus Regulus with a penetrating glance, “that those 
causes were true, and that they were not a snare set for 
the weakness and credulity of an old man ; for, if all these 
elements of terror were as vain as their causes were ridiculous ; 


TEE JEWS OF CATENA GATE, 


119 


if they were combined with profound perversity ; if a ecret 
hand applied itself to striking repeatedly at the feelings of 
this wretched father so as to crush them successively, how 
more truly we could claim that the contract is not binding, 
and that this shameful sale was never freely consented by the 
father !” 

After a magnificent peroration in which he made a touching 
appeal to the conscience of the judges, Pliny- the- Younger 
stated that he was through with his case, and modestly 
resumed his seat. He had used the water of six clepsydras, 
or, otherwise, had spoken only two hours. 

The case, however, was continued until the next day, on 
the demand of Regulus, who affirmed that he would require 
an entire sitting to reply to his adversary. 

Regulus seemed delighted with the turn given to the 
argument. On his way out of court, surrounded by his 
friends and clients, he criticized freely Pliny’s discourse. 

“ He was vehement and well inspired in the first part,” he 
said, “ but in his conclusion, he was far below his usual 
standard ! What advantages he has given me !” 

And as even wickedness finds flatterers, there were not 
wanting some to proclaim that Pliny’s speech was pitiful, and 
to promise their eloquent patron an easy victory. Regulus 
however, had had the sorrow to hear the acclamations and 
songs of the crowd escorting Pliny in triumph. 

The reply of Marcus Regulus, on the next day, was a 
commonplace speech, void of that eloquence which, coming 
from the heart speaks to the heart, carrying conviction with 
it. Yet the speaker was frequently interrupted by certain 
exclamations such as : Very well ! Bravo ! Nothing better ! 
(^piilclire ! pr cedar e ! festive !) accompanied by exaggerated 
applause. 

However, it was not as on the preceding day, a whole 
assemblage giving way spontaneously to enthusiastic admira- 
tion ; the words of praise and frequent plaudits we have 
mentioned came only from a few isolated individuals in 
the audience, who were evidently acting under orders. It 
was customary in those days fbr a speaker to provide himself 
with these hired admirers, and the greater his mediocrity, 
the more of these manifestations of mercenary zeal, the 
judges and the public had to bear. Marcus Regulus held 
these distributers of glory in high esteem. 


120 


AURELIA; OR, 


His plan of defence was of the simplest. He did not 
attempt to reply to that part of Pliny’s argument where 
Cecilia’s sale was attacked in the name of the eternal 
principles of morality, civilization and family ties. As might 
be expected, he confined himself to the purely legal grounds, 
and argued that the text of the Law of the Twelve Tables 
was in perfect harmony with the public and private constitu- 
tion, with the interests of the commonwealth and ot the 
family ; and that it had never been repealed by contradictory 
legislation or even abrogated by custom, as alleged. 

He recalled all the circumstances in which the greatest 
citizens of Rome had exercised this right of the father ; and 
he further established that on certain rare but recent occasions, 
citizens had continued, without opposition, to show by similar 
or analogous acts, their power over the bodies of their 
children. 

But the speaker dwelt with greater force on the question of 
Cecilius’ free consent. 

“ How,” he exclaimed, “ could the freedom of this consent 
be vitiated? By under working's, by fraudulent suppositions, 
by means of terror held suspended over ^e head of the 
father ! But what can be more real than the mysterious 
affiliation of Cecilius with the Jews of Capena gate ? Is not 
his daughter known to be a Christian, and then is it not 
natural that Honoratus Messio should have wished to discharge 
an unworthy and treacherous agent ? Will it be said that 
the Pretor’s judgment in favor of Parmenon was suppositi- 
tious? Was not the transfer made by Gurges of his claim 
against Cecilius a reality and an act performed in good 
faith?” 

“ It was an infamous surprise, and Parmenon and you are 
two great villains !” cried out the vespillo, at this mention of 
his name. 

But his voice was immediately drowned in the furious cries 
of the lawyer’s stipendiaries. 

Begulus proceeded without noticing the interruption : 

“ Finally,” he said, “there remains the Pontiff’s citation! 
Great gods !” lie continued, attempting an oratorical flight, 
“have ye not been insulted in the face of Borne? Was 
not the statue of the divinity venerated by young maidens 
contemptuously dashed to pieces on the pavement of the 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


121 


public street ? And by whom ? By a Jewess ! By a 
Christian ! By the enemy of our creed ! 0 horror ! 0 

abomination ! 0 sacrilege ! I should throw a veil over my 
face and present myself in the attitude of a supplicant . . 

“And your bandage, and your mourning toga?” remarked 
Pliny-the-Younger with a smile, trying to remind hii 
adversary of the theatrical desolation exhibited in his apparel. 

But Begulus seemed struck with a well-timed deafness. 

“What has Parmenon done?” he continued, “what has 
this honorable citizen done, to whom they would dispute 
to-day his dearly paid property ? Not only did he hand to 
Cecilius his title for the ten thousand sestertii, but he paid 
the Pontiffs ! Yes, he has settled the penalty for the sacrilege 
and here is the receipt !” 

And Begulus waived triumphantly a sheet of papyrus, the 
apparent proof of the twenty thousand sestertii paid by the 
slave-trader to the Pontiffs for abandoning the prosecution. 

“ So,” resumed Parmenon’s counsel, “I have paid thirty 
thousand sestertii for rights of which they now want to 
deprive me on the singular pretext that I have influenced 
the man whom I found surrounded by these embarrassments I 
0 good faith ! 0 justice ! As if it was I who invented 
the anguish and committed the crime ! As if Cecilius did 
not have an evident interest in escaping from the responsi- 
bilities that threatened him ! Well, he has done it I Can 
one maintain any longer that it was not in the full liberty of 
his right and all the strength of his consent !” 

Begulus ended with a peroration which drew several 
rounds of applause from his hired supporters. He showed in 
it skill if not talent. He made a gloomy picture of the 
misfortunes that awaited the capital of the world, if no 
stop was put to the dark and threatening enterprises of those 
accursed Christians, who sprung up in every direction 
and who would invade all society. ‘ ‘ Such is their audacity that 
they would destroy even the emperor’s power. What, then, 
would the divine Bomitian think, if he learned that Boman 
magistrates have hesitated for a single instant between him and 
the obscure Christian who is secretly supported by persona 
interested in violating the rights and the majesty of the 
empire !” , 

It was time that Begulus should bring his speech to an 


122 


AURELIA; OR, 


end. Ho was completely exhausted. The clepsydras had 
been repeatedly re-filled ; the usual hour for closing the court 
was passed, and several times already the judges had sent the 
usher to examine the sun-dials in the Forum. The trial was 
therefore continued until the next day, when Pliny-the- 
Younger would reply to Regulus. 

Long before the court assembled on the following morn- 
ing, the basilica Julia was besieged by an. immense crowd. 
Never had such deep interest been manifested in the issue of 
a Irial. A confused clamor filled the Forum and the soil 
seemed to tremble under the thousands impatient feet. 

i' liny-the- Younger and Marcus Regulus who came accom- 
panied by their clients, with the exception of Parmenon, 
who had not attended the pleadings, made their way with 
great difficulty through the compact living mass. 

Pliny placed little reliance in the high philosophy of the 
judges or in tlie disposition of their minds to embrace the 
generous sentiments which should have moved them in favor 
of Cecilia. He had reserved his most vigorous arguments 
for this last test. Ho was about to change his plan of attack 
and to deal Regulus personally, the most unexpected blows. 

Ho began by narrating how Cecilius in his distress had 
applied to Regulus ; what advice he had received from him ; 
to what perfidious insinuations he had yielded. Then, com- 
menting upon these facts with wonderful sagacity, and ana- 
lyzing all these details with the patience of a mind which 
sees the truth and wishes to make it felt, the eloquent law- 
yer, unable to restrain his indignation, gave vent to it in 
these terrible words : 

“ 0 Regulus, I recognize here your dark doings! The 
evil is there, and I can affirm that you did it. Yes, for who 
is acquainted with the shameful acts of your life, for who 
knows your heart — that unclean sink overflowing with the 
foulest iniquity — there can be no doubt. Your hand, red 
with so many murders, has alighted on this poor girl; I 
recognize its bloody impress I Tt is you who have prepared 
those odious snares ! By all the gods 1 it is you who have accu- 
mulated on the head of this wretched father all the misfortunes 
through ■which he has been led to sell his daughter. O 
shame! 0 crime! Cecilius came to this man for advice, and 
this man plnvod with a father’s despair as the tiger plays 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


123 


witli his prey. Oh^ Eegulus ! truly have you been styled 
the most pitiless of wild beasts ! . . .” 

These last words of the orator contained a terrible allusion 
to the remark recently made by Metius Modestus, and gen- 
erally repeated in Rome, to which we have already alluded. 

Regulus was boiling with rage. He seized this opportu- 
nity to interrupt his adversary : 

'‘Pliny,” he hissed, and his voice was as sharp as the 
point of a sword, “what do you think of Metius Modestus?” 

And he threw a glance of implacable defianpe to the 
judges. 

To understand the full import of this remark, it must be 
known that Dornitian had recently banished Metius Modestus 
for not rendering a sentence in conformity with the imperial 
views. It was therefore a threat directed to the magistrates. 
It was not only a dangerous question for his adversary to 
answer, but a warning to those who might be tempted to 
hesitate in the present circumstance, 

Regulus stood up, with flaming eyes, awaiting with hateful 
anxiety Pliny-the-Younger’s answer. 

The latter saw at once the snare : 

“ I shall reply to your question,” he retorted with perfect 
composure, “when the magistrates will have to judge it.” 

“I ask you,” insisted Regulus, trembling with rage, 
“what you think of the devotion shown to Dornitian by 
Modestus ?” 

“I think,” replied Pliny immediafdy, “that it is not 
permitted to discuss a question after judgment has been ren- 
dered!” 

Regulus, disconcerted by so much presence of mind, re- 
mained silent, and took his seat, still angry and threatening. 

The blow had told, however. If Pliny had saved himself 
by his ready answer, his case was compromised and would 
probably be lost. He read its fate on the embarrassed coun- 
tenance of the judges. 

It was in vain that he made renewed efibrts to repair this 
severe check, and that he rose to the most sublime height of 
eloquence. His voice was but a mere sound finding no echo 
in those who heard them. How could the men who had 
trembled and grown pale at the mention of the terrible 
Dornitian, listen to the appeal of injured innocence ? 


124 


AURELIA; OR, 


Pliny-the- Younger left the court-room, boiling with indig- 
nation at his adversary’s wickedness, and deeply grieved at 
the shameful weakness of those who were about to betray 
their own conscience through fear of a villain’s denunciation. 

Regulus retired in triumphant security. 


CHAPTER XI. 

TORTURES AND CONSTANCY. 

T he trial had lasted three days ; on the fourth the Recu- 
perators again met to deliberate upon the judgment 
which was to be rendered in the afternoon, according to the 
provisions of the law of the Twelve Tables. The basilica 
was again filled with an anxious and silent crowd. The 
sixth hour of the day having arrived, Caius-Sulpicius-Nume- 
rus, the senior judge, delivered the following sentence, in a 
solemn voice : 

‘ ‘ It appears that Cecilius had a right to sell his daughter 
to Parmenon. 

‘ ‘ It does not appear that the consent of Cecilius was influ- 
enced by any undue fear. 

“Consequently, it is ordered that Cecilia remain the 
property of Parmenon, according to the law of the Quirites.*’ 
The judges then retired amidst the lamentations of the 
young girl’s friends, the murmurs of dissatisfaction of the 
crowd, and the acclamations of Regulus’ partisans. 

We have got back to the precise point at which we com- 
menced our narrative ; but before proceeding, we must say 
something about the sufferings which the unfortunate Cecilia 
had borne during the few weeks which elapsed between her 
mancipation to Parmenon and her purchase by the divine 
Aurelia. 

When Marcus Regulus, through his agent, obtained pos- 
session of the young girl, it was not his design to detain her 
any longer than was necessary to extort from her the infor- 
mation he was seeking for Domitian. This end accomplished, 
he intended to return her to her father, provided the latter 
would reimburse him the amount expended by him ; together 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


125 


with a round profit. Avarice, it will be remembered, was a 
leading trait in the character of this vile informer, and he 
never consented to lose anything as long as he could avoid it. 

When, to his great astonishment, he saw the immense 
offers made by Flavia Domitilla for the freedom of the young 
girl, ho asked himself, while refusing the millions of 
sestertii tendered to Parmenon by that wealthy and charitable 
matron, whether he could not secure this magnificent prey 
and yet detain Cecilia long enough to accomplish his purpose. 
He distrusted Parmenon,. the legal and apparent owner of 
the young girl, who could, if tempted by these unheard 
of offers, destroy his hopes at one blow, by returning the 
daughter to her father. 

After due refiection, Marcus Regulus ordered Parmenon to 
propose to Cecilius to convey the girl back to him in exchange 
for the million offered, provided the father would let the manci- 
pation remain in force one month. lie hoped that during this 
delay he could wrench from Cecilia the secrets of her friends 
and the names which it was so important for him to know. 
Cecilius, advised by Pliny-the-Younger had refused. Mar- 
cus Regulus then instructed Parmenon to bargain for a delay 
of one week. Cecilius replied that having had the slmme of 
selling his daughter once, he would not confirm the infamous 
transaction by any such compromise. 

“ I want my daughter now,” he cried, “ and if you give 
her back to me, it is not one million of sestertii, but two 
millions which you will receive !” 

Flavia Domitilla upon learning the refusal of her first offer 
had given orders that twice and even three times that 
sum should be offered, if necessary, to redeem Cecilia whom 
she loved like a sister, and who had so generously confessed 
her faith amidst the fearful dangers and sufferings of slavery. 

Despite his usual self-control, • Marcus Reguliis could 
scarcely conceal his emotion when Parmenon reported that 
Cecilia’s friends offered to double the sum first proposed, 
if the young girl was immediately set in liberty. 

Come with me,” he said to the slave-dealer, after 
reflecting an instant ; “in a few hours that immense sum 
will be ours ! 'What a magnificent result, Parmenon ! By 
all the gods, this is more than I ever hoped !” 

The informer and his worthy accomplice proceeded to 
11 * 


126 


AURELIA; OR, 


the latter’s tavern. Regulus hoped to extort by bribes 
and threats, an immediate confession from Cecilia. 

“ Send the girl here,” he said to Parmenon, and leave us. 
I shall recall you directly.” 

Parmenon obeyed, and Cecilia was in the presence of 
her real persecutor. 

“My dear child,” said the arch-hypocrite, “ I have come 
to restore you to freedom and your father.” 

Cecilia started, a hopeful surprise sent a fugitive glow 
to her delicate features ; hut this feeling soon vanished when 
she met the cold, anxious gaze of this man whom she had 
never seen, and whose sight caused her an instinctive fear. 
She stepped back, involuntarily ; but gathering courage, she 
replied : 

“ I thank you, my lord. I shall always remember your 
generosity !” 

Regulus had not failed to perceive the impression caused 
by his presence. He was angry thereat, and resolved to stop 
at nothing to attain his object. There was besides, little 
time to lose ! 

“ Yes,” he repeated, “ I come to restore you to freedom 
and your father, but on one condition. ...” 

Cecilia looked up. She was firm now. 

“That condition,” resumed Regulus, who had made a 
slight pause, “ is that you will reveal to me all the mysteries 
of the sect to which you belong, and tell me the names of 
those who are like you Christians !” 

‘ ‘ 0 my God !” the young girl muttered with unspeakable 
contempt, ‘ ‘ I felt that this man had not come to save but to 
destroy me I” 

“Well ?” asked Regulus, who feigned not to have heard. 

“Well, my lord,” replied Cecilia, “ you must know that 
the Christians confess their faith but do not betray their 
brethren.” 

“ So you refuse to reply to my questions? Take care I” 
exclaimed the wretch. 

“ I certainly refuse to betray,” the courageous girl replied, 
unhesitatingly. 

“ Very well,” said Regulus with a sneer. ‘ “ We shall see 
if we can’t make you change your mind,” he added threaten- 
ingly ; and he called Parmenon. 


TEE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


127 


“ Show her,” said the informer to his accomplice, “ what 
a master is, and whether, when he questions, a slave can 
refuse to reply.” 

The slave dealer drew from under his garments a long, 
narrow and thick strap of leather, of the kind styled taurea, 
and uncovering the young girl’s shoulders, commenced 
striking her violently. The first blows of the lash, cutting 
into the flesh like a sharp-pointed instrument, made the blood 
trickle in abundant drops. 

The poor child who suffered for the first time this cruel 
torture, could not restrain her tears. and her groans of anguish. 

“Now,” said E-egulus, making a sign to Parmenon to stop, 
“will you speak?” 

“ Never !” replied firmly the heroic girl. 

“Come, Parmenon, it seems the dose was too mild. 
Begin again.” 

And Parmenon, with stolid indifference, again plied the 
lash. But Cecilia’s will seemed to grow stronger as her 
tortures increased : a single cry did not escape from her lips. 
But she prayed fervently. 

“Strike! strike again!” cried the fiend, hoping still to 
conquer this tender girl whose strength was giving way. 

But the child’s constancy and courage were greater even 
than the rage of her torturers. Parmenon was compelled to 
stop. His arm had grown tired. And, besides, Cecilia had 
sunk senseless to the ground — an inert and bloody mass. 

“Curses on the girl!” cried Begulus. “Oh! those 
Christians ! it is impossible to conquer them ! What shall 
Ido?” 

The brute’s fiendish rage had led him too far. How could 
he return the girl now to her father, in this dreadful condi- 
tion? It was useless to think of it. Besides, she had not 
spoken, and Begulus would never consent to release her 
without knowing her secrets and the names of so many illus- 
trious people. Better to lose those two millions of sestertii, 
the thought of which awakened his avaricious thirst, than t*) 
neglect this chance which once lost might never present itself 
again. This vile and cruel man still hoped to make his vic- 
tim speak. Her heroism did not excite his admiration, but 
his hateful rage. 

“ What is this sum,” he argued, “ compared to the reward 


128 


AURELIA; OR, 


wliicli awaits me if I succeed? A mere trifle. No, I shall 
not release her until she shall have spoken. And she shall 
do it ! she shall speak ! On my life I shall conquer her, or 
she will perish !” 

“ I shall be back to-morrow,” he said to Parmenon. “ It 
will not be too late. Until to-morrow, then, take care of 
your slave, so she may be in good condition in case we have 
to send her back.” 

On the next day and the day following, Regulus tried, by 
the same means, to overcome what he termed the obstinacy of 
the young girl. Cecilia, in a short time, had tasted all the 
tortures of slavery, all the suflerings' that her father had 
mentioned to her to make her abjure her faith. 

But why should we sadden the reader with the spectacle of 
these horrors ? Has he not already understood that Cecilia’s 
constancy would tire the rage of her persecutors ? 

, Marcus Begulus found himself powerless against the 
resignation of his victim. He had lost the fruits of his 
infamous act, and he had not succeeded in obtaining the in- 
formation he so ardently desired. He knew that Flavia 
Domitilla was a Christian, or, at least, he supposed so from 
her efforts to save Cecilia ; but this was not sufficient proof 
to reach a relation of the Emperor, or even to denounce her. 
Notwithstanding her illustrious birth and high rank, this 
young matron was, moreover, of too little importance in the 
State, that Homitian should have anything to fear from her, 
or should feel any anxiety concerning her. 

But the case was different with Flavius Clemens, his wife 
and their children,* the two young Caesars. These were 
great enough to give umbrage, and they must be followed and 
watched. 

The undertaking was not without its perils. Begulus 
might lose his credit instead of gaining the Emperor’s favor. 

The Christians, so far, had not been persecuted solely 
on account of their doctrines. When Nero sacrificed them 
to his fury, it had been to divert the accusations brought 
against himself since the burning of Borne ; and if Homitian 
now feared and wished to punish them, it was only because 
they were suspected of plotting against his power and the 
empire. 

It was therefore necessary to prove to the Emperor not only 
that Flavius Clemens and his family were Christians, but that 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


129 


they conspired for his overthrow; otherwise, Domitian, 
however iucliued to shed blood when a pretext was offered, 
would not proceed against his own kindred without some 
serious proof. 

The informer knew Domitian perfectly well ; he could not 
disguise to himself the power and high favor of those he 
wished to designate to -his vengeance, and he felt that he 
must be armed with convincing proofs, or he would succumb 
in the struggle. 

So far he knew nothing ; he could assert nothing positively ! 
How could he excite the emperor’s fear of the Christians, if 
he did not know their number? How could he alarm 
him with their secret designs, if he was ignorant of what took 
place in their assemblies ? Could he point to them as 
already ascending the steps of the throne, when he had 
only vague suspicions of the affiliation of Flavius Clemens and 
his family with the creed of Christ ? 

Cecilia knew all these things and could have enlightened 
Regulus ; but Cecilia was mute — the most cruel tortures had 
not wrenched from her. a single confession ! The informer’s 
rage increased in proportion to the resistance of his victim, 
and he invented the most cruel tortures to make her speak. 
But Cecilia exhausted by her sufferings fell sick and came 
near dying. ' ■ 

Begulus began to fear the consequences of his infamy. He 
might be prosecuted for this murder, by the magistrate 
appointed since Nero’s time to protect the slaves from the 
atrocities of their masters ; and, as in this case, the slave was 
of free-born condition, the offender would be severely dealt 
with. 

But he feared also that death would ravish his prey, 
and with it his hopes of fortune and ambition. 

For these reasons he had the young girl nursed and cared 
for, better, and at greater expense than Cecilius could have 
done. 

Cecilia’s youth saved her. She lived to continue her 
wretched existence, but she was strengthened by her faith, 
comforted by the hopes which still lived in her heart, and by 
her love for Olinthus, which grew stronger every day. 

It was amidst these circumstances that the tax-gatherer 
assisted by Pliny-the-Younger, brought suit against Parmenon 


AURELIA; OR, 


130 

for the recovery of Cecilia. Marcus Regulus had new cause 
to fear, and devoted all his attention to the struggle about to 
commence. But he had little confidence in Parmenon, who, 
during the progress of this suit, could sell the young girl to 
his adversaries for a large sum. He compelled the slave- 
dealer to give her into the hands of a woman named Laufella, 
in whose fidelity he believed he could trust implicitly. 

Immediately after the confirmation of Parmenon’ s rights by 
the Pretor, Begulus had resolved to sell Cecilia. It was the 
only means by which he could preserve a hold upon his 
victim with some security for his ulterior projects. By 
stipulating that she could never be emancipated, — which was 
permitted by the Homan laws — he remained forever, master 
of the girl’s fate, and no longer feared treachery on the part 
of Parmenon or Laufella. 

This life of perpetual slavery would frighten Cecilia, and 
sooner or later, she would seek to get out of it by betraying 
her secrets! Begulus would then purchase her from her 
master, or would exact a large sum for relinquishing the 
condition which formed an insuperable obstacle to the 
generous ofiers of the young girl’s friends. Parmenon, 
in case Cecilia should be set free despite the clause prohibiting 
her manumission, could claim her, into whosoever’s hands she 
might be found, even into her father’s hands. 

But whatever hypothesis should prove the true one, it was 
an atrocious act of revenge and the thought rejoiced this 
cruel man. The manner in which Cecilius had treated 
Begulus on the steps of the basilica Julia was not likely 
to soften his dispositions. When he threatened vengeance 
on the father who had made him feel the weight of his 
legitimate and natural indignation, Begulus swore to accom- 
plish the threat without delay. AVe have seen what steps he 
took to effect this. 

It mattered little what price could be obtained actually for 
Cecilia. Begulus looked to the future to reap the fruits 
of his infamous speculation. Still he fixed that price at 
one hundred thousand sestertii, one third of which he would 
abandon to Parmenon in order to secure his assistance when 
circumstances would require it. This was a large sum in 
Borne, where slaves brought, on an average, from two 
thousand to two thousand two hundred seitertii, and, at most. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


131 


ten and twenty thousand when they possessed some extra- 
ordinary talent. Yet, wealthy citizens had been known 
to pay exorbitant prices for certain slaves of a special category. 

Cecilia was of free birth ; she was in all the bloom of 
youth ; her beauty was of an uncommon class ; Kegulus 
hoped that some purchaser would be found, who would not 
regret paying the large sum asked for such a treasure. 

Such are the events and the abominable calculations which 
explain the presence of Cecilia on Parmenon’s slave-stand, 
at the time the divine Aurelia’s cortege, returning from 
Pompey’s portico, passed near the Flaminius circus, on its 
way to the Villa piiblica. Marcus Regulus, concealed behind 
one of the pillars of the portico, was enjoying the spectacle 
of the young girl’s shame and her friends’ sorrow, when he 
recognized the livery of the divine Aurelia. 

“ 0 Fortune I” exclaimed the wretch, “ will you cease at 
last to defeat my schemes ? Let the emperor’s niece purchase 
Cecilia, and I shall sacrifice to you a white heifer !” 

This vow of Marcus Pegulus can be easily explained. The 
divine Aurelia is related to Flavius Clemens and the two 
Flavias Domitillas ; the Yestal Cornelia lives with her; if 
Cecilia enters her house, whether she speaks or persists in 
her silence, the informer may seize, by one lucky effort, the 
proofs he has so far vainly sought. 

Will not the relations of the divine Aurelia feel the most 
hopeful joy when they learn that Cecilia fills the place of 
Doris ? If her protectors could not obtain her release from 
Parmenon, will it not be easy nov/ to restore her to her 
father, by applying to their young relation ? Doubtless ; but 
Ilegulus will watch and if Cecilia should cross that door 
with her freedom, Parmenon will be ready to claim her, in 
accordance with the conditions of the sale. 

Besides, in these efforts there v/ould be a new proof of 
Christianity, and Kegulus may surprise it. Cecilia is a 
Jewess ! If Flavius Clemens and his family had not embraced 
her creed, why should they devote themselves to this poor 
daughter of the people, placed so far beneath them. 

Cecilia is a Jewess! But, then will she not associate her- 
self to the efforts made to persuade the divine Aurelia to 
adopt tliis accursed superstition — the new faith of her rela- 
tions ? Oh I Kegulus is well aware that Christianity, like 


132 


AURELIA; OR, 


the bright flame, seeks to spread itself. But Aurelia is 
destined to the empire ! she will not renounce this glorious 
destiny; she will bid her slave hush, but she will cry out 
against her family ; and Begulus will be there to hear that 
cry, to bring that complaint to Domitian’s ears. 

And in that house, so closely watched, the informer sees his 
two other preys, the Grrand Vestal and Metellus Celer, who 
must, in time, be dragged into the abyss. Decidedly, it is a 
good thing that Cecilia should be bought by the divine Aurelia, 
liegulus will have no cause to regret the death of Doris. The 
new slave will be more usefully than the old one ; she who 
keeps silent in order not to betray her brethren, will be worth 
more than she who spoke to betray her masters. Begulus, 
with his crafty foresight, must have read in the future, for 
no sooner has Aurelia bought this young girl, than a cry 
of joy is heard : 

“Daughter of the Caesars, take this young girl to your 
home!” 

And this cry comes from Christians. 

So, the genius of good and the genius of evil are in presence I 

They have had the same thought and the same presenti- 
ments. 

Their aim alone is different ! 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE OMEN TREE. 

W HEN Aurelia returned home, she went at once, followed 
by Yibius Crispus, to the room occupied by the Grrand 
Vestal. Cornelia, still overwhelmed by the shame of the 
punishment which had impaired her health, was reclining on 
the richly embroidered, purple cushions of her couch. Near 
her sat Metellus Celer, who, since the Vestal’s arrival at 
Aurelia’s house, scarcely ever left her. 

G Cornelia was then about thirty-five years old. Her features 
wjore an august and imposing expression, and her tall figure 
, was full of majesty. Her face had become wan and thin 
frojn I deep-seated sorrow, and in her black, sunken eyes 


TBE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


133 


glittered a sinister fire. And yet, when she smiled, there 
was on her features an undefinahle blending of touching 
kindness and secret tenderness, of virgin pride and long- 
treasured resignation. She wore the plain and elegant dress 
of the virgins of Vesta : a long stole of the finest linen which 
fell over her feet, and a short white tunic, worn over the 
stole, and reaching a little lower than her waist ; narrow 
bands held the heavy tresses of her raven-black hair ; and 
the sujihulum or square veil fell in graceful folds over her neck. 

Metellus Celer was seven years younger than the Grand- 
Vestal. He was clad in the angusticlave, or tunic ornamented 
with a narrow purple band, by which the simple knights were 
distinguished from the senators. His face wore the bloom of 
youth, and yet sorrow had left its unmistakable marks upon it. 
His smile was sad, and his clouded brow often betrayed the secret 
anxiety which embittered his life. Metellus loved the Vestal 
with a son’s tenderness and a brother’s passionate devotion. 
This feeling is easily explained : he owed his life to her ; she 
had rescued him from a fearful death. 

It seemed as if some great danger again threatened him , 
for there was an involuntary despondency in his manner ; and 
Cornelia was gazing at him with a sort of terror. When 
Aurelia came in they were conversing in a low voice, as if 
they feared being overheared. At her sight they ceased 
speaking. 

“Cornelia,” said the young girl, joyfully, “ I have just 
bought a charming little slave, to fill the place of Doris. 
Now don’t you get her killed as you did the other,” sho 
added, addressing also Metellus. 

The Vestal and the young man exchanged a rapid glance. 

‘‘Dear child,” said Cornelia, “you do not know, you 
cannot know all the harm that Doris has done ! Metellus 
was speaking of it when you came in. We are both 
denounced !” 

“ Indeed!” exclaimed Vibius. 

“ It is a positive fact,” said Metellus, “ for I have it from 
a Pontiff, who got his information from Helvius Agrippa 
himself.” 

“ And who made this denunciation ?” asked Vibius. 

“I have every reason to believe that it is that infamous 
Regulus, upon the information obtained from Doris !” 

12 


134 


AURELIA; OR, 


“It could not be otherwise/’ remarked Yibius, simply; 
and turning to tlie divine Aurelia : 

“ My dear ward,” he added, “ you cannot keep this new 
slave of yours a single day ! She must be sold without 
delay !” 

“And why, if you please, my dear guardian?” asked 
Aurelia in a tone of playful irony, for she thought Yibius had 
spoken in jest. 

“Because,” replied Yibius seriously, “that young girl 
belongs to Begulus ! because it is he who sold her to you, he 
who introduced her into your house !” 

‘ ‘ Ah !” exclaimed Cornelia and Metellus in a tone of 
alarm, for they realized the fearful import of this discovery. 

“But, my dear guardian,” resumed Aurelia, who could 
not understand all this terror, “ why then, did you not pre- 
vent me from purchasing her ? You should have told 
me ! . . ” 

“ You are perfectly right, my august ward, but on our 
way here I have reflected upon certain circumstances, and I am 
sure my conclusions are correct. I shall explain my meaning, 
listen. This young girl has recently been the object of a 
lawsuit that made a good deal of noise in Borne, although I 
am not acquainted with the particuhirs. However, I was 
told by Pliny-the-Younger who pleaded against Begulus, that 
this wretch had succeeded in having your slave adjudged to 
him under the name of one Parmenon — the very man who 
has just sold her to you 1” 

Yibius Crispus paused, for it seemed to him that Metellus 
Celer had made an involuntary motion of surprise upon 
hearing the name of Parmenon. But the young man said 
nothing. 

“What convinces me now that I do not mistake, is that 
whilst the form of mancipation was being gone through with, 

I recognized Begulus, who seemed to take a great interest in 
it, for he approached the girl and whispered something in her 
ear which I could not hear. Well! is this clear enough ? 
What do you think of it?” 

“ Oh ! there can be no doubt,” replied the Grand-Yestal 
and Metellus Celer. “This young girl must be a new spy 
sent by Begulus 1” 

“ So,” added Metellus, “you are quite sure that the slave 
dealer’s name is Parmenon ?” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


135 


“ Quito sure,” replied Vibius, looking at the young man 
with surprise. “Do you know him 

“No,” said Metellus thoughtfully. “And yet, this 
coincidence is very remarkable ! . . . This inan, Parmenon , 
interests me more than you can think I” 

“ Ah !” said Yibius, curiously. 

“Come,” continued Metellus, but speaking to himself, 
^‘Sositheus will return directly, and I shall know, what t;> 
think about it !” 

“ But, after all,” asked Aurelia, “ is that man Begulus so 
much to be feared! What would bo his object in setting 
spies to watch what takes place here ?” 

“ My dear ward,” replied Vibius, “ permit us to not reply 
to youi’ question. Only, if you do not wish the death of your 
friend,” he added, pointing at the Grand- Vestal who shud- 
dered, “ sell that slave, do not keep her in your house !” 

Metellus Celer was pacing the room in deep thought. 
The troubled condition of his mind was visible. 

“ My lord,” he said, at last, stopping to address Vibius, 
“there is something passing strange in all this. I cannot 
move a step without finding Begulus in my path ; his name 
is like a sword continually suspended over my head 1 Once 
abeady I well nigh perished ! . . . Listen to me, my lord, I 
have strange and terrible things to tell you. You will knrnv 
then why I am so devoted to the Grand- Vestal, and whether 
there is anything criminal in our intimacy. You may then 
perhaps discover the cause of Begulus’ persecution, and tell 
us whether or not we should tremble.” 

“I listen, young man,” said Vibius, in whom this preamble 
excited a lively curiosity. 

“ As for me,” remarked Aurelia, “ I shall retire. I must 
question, myself, my new slave, and find out if there is really 
any cause to distrust her . . . She is charming, and I warn 
you that I am not at all inclined to deprive myself of her 
services . . . It is enough that Doris has been sacrificed to 
Begulus . . . Great gods! that Begulus is like the Swag- 
gering Soldier in the comedies of Plautus, he disturbs 
everything here ! But this state of things cannot last. 

I shall complain to uncle Domitian !” 

Metellus Celer and Cornelia made no effort to detain 
the young girl. Her going was a relief to them, for there 


136 


AURELIA; OR, 


were certain circumstances connected with the events the 
young man was about to relate, that concerned Domitian, 
and could not therefore be mentioned in the hearing of the 
emperor’s niece. 

“ Proceed, Metelhis,” said Vibius with impatient curiosity. 

“ You know, my lord,” began the young man, “ that my 
father, Lucius Metellus, had the honor of being the dearest 
friend of the Emperor Yespasian. He was much younger 
than that prince ; but his family, living in Reata, in the 
Sabine country, had always been intimate with the Flavius 
family, which had been established in that city many years, 
and Vespasian carried back to my father, whom he had seen 
in his cradle, all the love he had received from our family. 

“In Phalacrina, not far from Reata, the Flavius family 
had a modest country house. It was there Yespasian was 
born, on the fifteenth day of the calends of December, during 
the Consulship of Quintus Sulpicius Camerinus and Gains 
Poppseus Sabinus. There he was brought up by his paternal 
grand mother, Tertulla; there he died on the eighth of 
the calends of Julius, at the age of sixty-nine years, one 
month and seven days. It was there also that the Emperor 
Titus, of glorious memory, died at the age of forty-one years, 
of the swift and mysterious disease which carried him to his 
grave two months and twenty days after he had succeeded to 
his father. 

‘ ‘ I insist on these details because I believe them necessary 
for a proper appreciation of the events I have to relate. The 
Emperor Yespasian was passionately fond of this poor country- 
house. He went there frequently and would never allow any 
change to be made, to a place where everything reminded him 
of his infancy ; his son, the great Titus, entertained the same 
worshipful veneration for that humble cradle of his illustrious 
family. 

“ I remember that when I was six or seven years old, the 
great Yespasian often took me by the hand and led me out 
to walk over the grounds. On several occasions we stopped 
before a magnificent tree, which received the assiduous care 
of the gardener, and the emperor never failed to tell me, 
with a smile : 

^Metellus, when you have a fine tree like this, in your 
garden, you will be caesar and emperor like me I’ 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


137 


“This tree was a very old oak, eonsecrated to Mars. 
When Vespasian’s mother, Vespasia Polla, gave birth to her 
first child — a girl — a weak shoot grew on the same day 
from this tree, but was soon withered. It was an omen of 
the child’s destiny, for she died within the year. 

“Vespasia then had a son, and from the tree sprang a 
vigorous shoot, which caused the wonder of every one, and 
was interpreted as announcing a great fortune for the new- 
born infant. And, in fact, this child was Sabinus Major, 
who became Prefect of the city, and with whom commenced 
the fame of the Flavia race. 

Finally, at my birth,’ said the Emperor Vespasian, who 
narrated these wonders to me, ‘ the shoot that grew from the 
oak was so strong that it looked liked a young tree. This 
time,’ continued the emperor, laughing, ‘ my poor father 
Petronius, who had run to his oak, could not control himself. 
He hastened back, breathless, to the house, crying : It is a 
Caesar who is born unto me ! Mother, it is a Caesar I — Poor 
old Tertulla thought that her son had lost his senses. 
She often quizzed him about it, and yet you see, Metellus, 
that the tree was right.’ 

“ I shall abridge,” continued the young man “ in order to 
come to more important facts. After the death of Vespasian 
and Titus, my father, through respect and affection for their 
memory, purchased the house where he had so often enjoyed 
the intimacy of these two great men. The Emperor Domitian 
did not like to preserve a villa which reminded him too much 
of his low origin. You are aware, my lord, that about that 
time Domitian was accused of having poisoned his brother, 
whom he had, nevertheless, placed among the gods ; and it 
is certain that what had taken place at the death of Vespasian 
to whom he attempted to succeed, proves with what impatience 
he must have borne the reign of Titus ...” 

“Take care, young man!” said Vibius gravely; “such 
accusations are dangerous in these times, and you would do 
wisely in not repeating them!” 

“I know it, my lord,” replied Metellus, “but I must 
speak of them, since I have been accused of originating them, 
together with other reports, and that this was what caused 
my condemnation.” 

“ Finally,” he resumed ; “ having reached the age when it . 

12 * 


138 


AURELIA; OR, 


became necessary to complete my education, my father sent 
me to Rome to attend the public schools, and to listen to the 
teaching of the orators and philosophers. Meanwhile, he 
remained at his house in Reata, which he seldom left, for he 
despised the abject life of Domitian’s court and feared its 
perils. 

‘ ‘ Now commenced a bright and happy period in my 
existence ; I lived in the intimacy of the most charming 
minds and joyous companions ; but this was of short duration. 
My father’s frequent letters were filled with sad details and 
gloomy forebodings. He spoke of a growing state of dis- 
content among the slaves, of attempts at revolt which it had 
been found necessary to put down by force, of threatening 
rumors, and of plots reported daily by reliable persons. 

“ I must not omit to mention, my lord, that a short time 
before my departure, Lucius Metellus had purchased from a 
slave dealer who had called at our house, a few slaves destined 
to agricultural labors of some importance which my father had 
undertaken with a view to the improvement of his new 
property. Among these slaves was one named Phaedria, 
whom I would recognize amidst a thousand, if I could ever 
find him. 

“ This Phaedria enjoyed perfect health, and his uncommon 
strength and stalwart frame made him eminently fit for the 
arduous labor of the husbandman. He seemed, moreover, to 
possess an experience in such matters which would relieve 
Metellus to a certain extent of the cares of personal surveil- 
lance. But, at the same time, Phaedria inspired one at first 
sight with an unaccountable feeling of fear and repulsion, 
from which I could not defend myself when I met him for 
the first time. His look was treacherous, and the assumed 
submissiveness and servility of his manner ill-disguised the 
native brutality and audaciousness of his nature. 

"‘I watched him closely during several days, and my 
apprehensions acquired a new strength. I spoke to my 
father about it, and urged him to get rid of this man ; but 
he replied that my suspicions were without foundation, and 
moreover, he could easily check any attempt at insubordina- 
tion. On the day of my departure from home I insisted 
again on this subject and communicated to my father new 
facts that had come under my observation ; but it was in 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


139 


vain. My father had got used to this man ; he found him 
useful, and did not believe him dangerous. He therefore 
persisted in his resolution to keep him. 

“ Soon after my arrival in Rome, I commenced to receive 
those letters which gave me so much uneasiness, but my 
father, far from complaining of Pha3dria, was enthusiastic in 
his praise of him, and laughed at my fears. But he confided 
to me that he could not account for the insubordinate dispo- 
sitions of his slaves ; that he was threatened, and felt himself 
surrounded by a continual espionage, of which he could 
neither comprehend the motive or discover the object. 

‘ ‘ Finally, I received a letter containing such alarming 
facts, and so full of bitter complaints, that I judged my 
father’s situation intolerable, and I resolved to hasten to his 
assistance. I left Rome that very evening, on horseback, 
and accompanied by a single slave. We travelled all night 
and towards the middle of the next day I arrived at the place 
where should have been my father’s house, the former villa 
of Vespasian and Titus. I use this doubtful expression 
purposedly, my lord, for my first thought was that I had lost 
my way, or that an inimical divinity wanted to deceive me 
by false appearances. 

‘ ‘ I was standing in the middle of a vast plain ; the soil 
around me was naked and as level as if the plow had passed 
over it. In the distance I could recognize all the fiimiliar 
sites of the neighboring country, which convinced me that 
I was on our land ; but there remained not a vestige of the 
house ; the omen tree which stood so high and whose branches 
extended so far, had disappeared. If I was not the victim of 
a hideous dream, if I really stood on my father’s land, it was 
evident that everything had been devastated, swept away, 
leaving nothing but a fearful wilderness. 

“ But then, what had become of my father? ... At this 
thought, my lord, I felt my heart breaking ! I shutiii}'- eyes 
and with a cry of anguish I fell on the barren soil ! 

“ When I opened my eyes,” resumed the young man, vdio 
had paused, overcome by his emotion, “I saw a slight 
cloud of smoke rising from the spot wdiere our house had 
stood ; and, standing in the middle of the pkin, a man who 
had answered my cry. It was Sositheus, an old freedman 
who had played with my father in boyhood and taken care of 


140 AURELIA; OR, 

my infancy ! He was mourning over the smoking ruins of 
our home ! 

“ Sositheus ! Sositheus !” I cried from afir, “ where is my 
father ? in the name of the gods, where is he ?” 

“ And I heard him reply that my father was no more, and 
that Phasdria had murdered him during the night that 
preceded my departure from Rome.” 

Metellus paused, overwhelmed by these sorrowful reminis- 
cences. Vibius was silent and grave. The Grand Vestal 
wept with Metellus, and pressed his trembling hands with 
emotion. 

‘ ‘ Sositheus,” resumed the young man when he had 
recovered his composure, “told me in a few words the 
particulars of this mysterious and dreadful catastrophe. He 
was absent when it occurred, my father having sent him 
away on some important business, a few days previous. On 
his return he had found the place as I now saw it. But he 
learned that our slaves, two hundred in number, incited 
to revolt, had suddenly attacked the house, armed with fire 
and sword ! Phaedria led them ; Phaedria excited them 
to bloodshed ; it was Phaedria who plunged a knife in the 
heart of my father, who murdered the poor defenceless 
old man ! 

“Everything was destroyed, scattered or burnt by those 
two hundred demons, whose rage seemed to accrue as the 
work of destruction progressed. A tempest sweeping over 
those fields, the breath of the gods seeking their annihilation 
could not have made the work of desolation more complete. 
Nothing was left standing ! not a stone, not a tree ! nothing ! 
nothing but the silence of death !” 

“But,” asked Vibius, seeing that that the young man 
stopped, “ could you discover no clue to the cause of this 
terrible event ? What became of all those slaves ? What was 
this Phsedria’s fate ?” 

“ The greater number of those wretches came back to 
implore my forgiveness, and to beseech me, with tears, to 
grant them life. I consented, for how could I punish when 
so many were guilty ? But none of them could reveal to me 
the real cause of my father’s murder and of the terrible 
disaster of that eventful night. I have recaptured, one after 
another, all the slaves who had not surrendered themselves. 


THE JEm OF CAP EM A GATE. 


141 


I used tortures to make them confess, . . . but among all 
these men, some of whom had been spared by my indulgence 
and the others had felt my just severity, not one was found 
who could throw a light on this dark deed ! I found in them 
only poor wretches excited to pillage by the hope of freedom, 
and led to crime by those cruel instincts unknown to our 
souls, but which boil over suddenly, in the mire of those 
abject natures. 

‘ ‘ As for Phaedria, whose perfidious schemes and murderous 
object all had confirmed, I have searched Rome and Italy, 
during six months, to wreak upon him my rage and just 
vengeance, but I have failed to obtain the least clue to his 
whereabouts I” 

“All this is strange and terrible!” said Vibius who 
seemed plunged in deep thought. 

“My lord, will you know my secret opinion?” asked 
Metellus. 

“Well,” he continued, reading assent in the old man’s 
eyes, ‘ ‘ these things happened at the time Domitian proclaimed 
himself a god and had his golden statue erected in the 
capitol. I am convinced that the disaster at the villa where 
Vespasian and Titus were born, was ordered to destroy 
the testimony of his plebeian origin written on its walls; 
that Phaedria was the instrument of Regulus, and Regulus 
the infamous agent of Pomitian’s secret wishes 1” 

“Oh! young man! young man!” exclaimed Vibius. 
“ But, why then, this murder of your father ?” 

“And why the son’s condemnation?” replied Metellus. 
“ For you have yet to learn, my lord, what happened to me. 
I was hunting up Phasdria,” he continued, “ when I found 
myself all at once assailed by the most singular accusations. 
It was alleged that I was the author of the reports I have 
already alluded to, and which were circulated in Rome, 
concerning the sudden death of the Emperor Titus ; and, 
moreover, that it was I who sought to throw the power of the 
emperor into discredit, by repeating to every one that his 
ancestor was only a poor undertaker of public works. I pro- 
tested against these allegations ; but I was told — which is 
very significant — that I had got this story from my father, 
who had himself propagated it in Phalacrina and Reata. 

“ One evening, as I was returning home, I was assailed by 


142 


AURELIA; OR, 


a cohort, dragged before a judge, and tried and sentenced, 
on that same night. I was marching in the midst of an escort 
of soldiers, to meet my fate, when .... But,’^ said the 
young man turning to the Vestal, with eyes beaming with 
gratitude, “it is you, not I, who should inform Vibius of 
what then took place.’’ 

“It was a very simple occurrence,” said Cornelia, “ and I 
claim no particular merit for acting as I did. You know, 
my lord, that one of our most ancient and indisputable 
privileges, is to pardon any citizen on his way to be» executed, 
provided we can declare that we met him accidentally. The 
full exercise of this right is particularly guaranteed to the 
Grand-Vestal. No sentence of death, even if decreed by the 
emperor, can be executed when the lictor who proceeds her 
has extended his fasces over the condemned man’s head. 

‘ ‘ At an early hour on the morning of the calends of May, 
of last year, I was returning in my litter, from the Consul’s 
house, where I had presided during the night at the mysteries 
of the Good Goddess, to the Atrium Regium, when, at the 
angle of the Sacred Way and the Forum, I met the escort 
which accompanied Metellus. My lictor cried aloud : ‘ ‘ The 

Grand Vestal I” and extended his fasces towards the soldiers, 
who immediately halted. I asked the centurion whither he 
was taking this man, for 1 did not know Metellus. Ho 
replied that he was taking him to the Tullanium by order of 
the emperor. 

“Young man, you are free,” said I to Metellus, and I 
made the prescribed declaration to the centurion. 

“ This is all I have done for Metellus. It is much, since 
I saved his life, but it is little, since it only required a few 
words. And” added the Vestal, with a caressing look at 
the young man, “ it is nothing, for who knows how Metellus 
repaid his debt.” 

“You forget, dear Cornelia,” remarked Metellus, “that 
Begulus having sought to have me re-arrested during the 
day, pretending that you had no right to pardon me, you 
claimed me from Domitian himself, and the emperor dared 
not forget the duty of the Great Pontiff! 

“ Having avoided this danger,” continued Metellus, “I 
soon fell into another. Begulus was not the man to give up 
the victim who had once escaped from his clutch. It is clear, 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


143 


my lord, that the wretch had been instrumental in my con- 
demnation, for, otherwise, why should he have attempted to 
deny an indisputable prerogative ? I am right in my suspi- 
cions, and my poor father was likewise the victim of an 
accusation, the principle of which is to be found in the facts 
I have alluded to. There can be no doubt of this. 

Having failed in this first attempt, my enemies seek 
new means to injure me. But this time their object is two- 
fold. They wish to destroy not me alone, but also her to whose 
intervention I owed my safety. The Grand-Yestal saved 
Metellus ; she must perish with Metellus ! Oh ! this is 
dreadful ! . . . What more shall I say, my lord ? I soon 
discovered that an implacable hatred was seeking to work out 
this atrocious revenge. Naturally, Cornelia had become, and 
is still for me the object of a pious worship and of a gratitude 
which will forever fill my heart. W ell ! they have calum- 
niated these noble sentiments and given them the most odious 
interpretations. So great were the suspicions thus aroused 
and so perfidiously woven the web, that I had to leave Rome 
and to condemn myself to live in complete solitude. Yes, 
my lord, such has been my life for near a year past. I had 
selected an unknown and almost inaccessible retreat, and 
these accusations were hushed by my absence. But I heard 
of the Grand-VestaFs sorrows, I hastened back to Rome, to 
devote myself to her for whom I would give my life, and at 
the first step I am again beset by this secret persecution . . . 
I am denounced !” 

“ Young man,” said Vibius solemnly, when Metellus had 
ceased speaking; “you asked my advice, . . . here it 
is! Leave Rome instantly, return to your hiding-place. 
Should it not be safe enough, burrow, if necessary, in the 
bowels of the earth, but hide, try to be forgotten I This is 
all I can say to you.” 

“ I shall do it!” exclaimed Metellus. “ Yes, I shall go! 
but not until I have ascertained whether a man whom 
Sositheus followed yesterday, and whom he saw enter one of 
the taverns of the Villa Puhlica, is not Phasdria, my father’s 
murderer, the victim I demand of heaven and hell since two 
years past !” 

“Good-bye,” said Vibius, addressing the Vestal and 
Metellus. “ You have heard and understood me ! Refiect 
and act !” 


144 AURELIA; OR, 

And the cautious old courtier left the room, muttering to 
himself ; 

“By Minerva! one must have prudence! Let us keep 
clear of these dangerous mysteries ! I have got enough 
already with my unlucky jest about the flies !” 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE DAUGHTER OF THE CAESARS AND THE DAUGHTER OF THE 
PEOPLE. 

W HILST Metellus was narrating his story to Vihius, the 
divine Aurelia had given orders to send up to her the 
new slave she had purchased. 

“ I shall soon see,” she thought, “ whether I must sacriflce 
this young girl to I don’t know what exigencies ?” 

Cecilia was introduced into the cuhiculum where her 
mistress awaited her coming. The poor child had scarcely 
recovered from the sufferings she had home during several 
months, and from the cruel emotions she had felt during the 
act of mancipation which separated her forever from her 
father and her lover, from all who cared for her. 

She knew not whose slave she had become, but surmised 
from Aurelia’s magnificent cortege and the splendors of her 
house, that she must be a wealthy patrician. But she had 
often heard speak of the reflned barbarity of the matrons 
towards the unfortunate creatures who waited upon them, and 
she could not help fearing that God had destined her for new 
trials. She approached Aurelia with respectful deference, 
but with such evident fear that the latter could not fail to 
notice it. 

‘ ‘ Come nearer,” said kindly the noble girl, placed so high 
by fate and who was moved by the appearance of the 
charming creature whom fortune had made her slave ; 
come, I am not a very terrible mistress.” 

Encouraged by the caressing tone of this sweet voice, 
Cecilia raised her eyes, and she thanked God in her heart, 
when she saw the gentle face of Domitian’s niece. 

“What is your name?” inquired the divine Aurelia. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


145 


Cecilia, madam,” replied the young girl humbly, but 
without fear this time. 

‘ ‘ Say that you have not come here to betray me !” said 
Aurelia abruptly, and looking her slave full in the face. 

“What do you mean, madam?” exclaimed Cecilia, ^Yh() 
drew back involuntarily, so surprised she was at this strangs 
question. “ I, betray you ! ...” 

‘ ‘ Oh ! I knew that could not bo !” said the young 
patrician, noticing the spontaneous movement and evident 
surprise of the slave. “ Let us see, however,” she added, 
remembering the remarks of Vibius. “What did that 
horrible Regulus say to you when I took you away ?” 

“ Kegulus^ . . . Regulus ?” repeated Cecilia, astonished 
and hesitating. “Who is he?” 

The young girl did not know her torturer’s name. 

Regulus, who stood near the slave-dealer who sold you.” 

‘■‘Ah! . . . his name is Regulus . , . Well, madam, Iki 
told me I should be free as soon as I would ob^'j him.” 

“And what is it you must do, to obey him ?” 

“ I must denounce my benefactors, Flavia Domitilla and 
Flavius Clemens.” 

‘ ‘ Fla via Domitilla and Flavius Clemens 1” cried the 
divine Aurelia, at the height of astonishment. ‘ ‘ What do you 
say? my relations! . . .” 

“ Your relations !” repeated Cecilia with as much surprise. 

“ Yes, my relations ! Are you not then aware that I am 
the emperor’s niece ?” 

“No madam,” replied the young slave simply. 

There was a pause. The divine Aurelia was plunged 
in thought. She knew already that Regulus was trying 
to ascertain the afiliation of her family with the worship 
of Christ, in order, doubtless, to inform the emperor. What 
surprised her was the boldness of this new attempt, ami 
the still stranger fact that Cecilia should have such intimate 
acquaintance with Flavia Domitilla and Flavius Clemens, as 
to have acquired the right of styling them her benefactors. 

“ How did you come to know my relations ?” she asked. 

“Madam, previous to my misfortune, I saw Flavia Domitilhi 
every day, and I had the honor of receiving a daughter’s 
welcome in the consul’s house.” 

“ Indeed ! and how did this come to happen ?” 

13 


146 


AURELIA; OR, 


But instead of replying to this question, Cecilia looked 
down, embarrassed and silent. To explain the cause of 
her intimacy with that noble family, would be to reveal 
the secrets for which she had suffered all the tortuers inflicted 
by Begulus. It is true that the divine Aurelia had spoken 
of her relationship with Flavia Bomitilla and Flavius Clemens ; 
but was this sufficient for Cecilia to forget the rules of 
prudence which made it her duty not to divulge the names of 
her brethren in the religion of Christ ? 

The divine Aurelia remarked her slave’s hesitation und 
felt offended ; but she also suspected the motive of her 
silence. 

“ Can it be that you are a Christian?” she asked, and 
there was a certain bitterness in her voice. 

“Yes, madam, I am a Christian,” replied Cecilia, who 
could not suspect what a revelation this simple word 
contained. 

“ You are a Christian! Ah ! I understand now? But I 
am not an informer I” cried Aurelia in a tone of reproach. 
Then a suspicion flashed to her mind : 

“How does it happen,” she added, “that you are a 
slave if Flavia Bomitilla protected you ?” 

“ I was sold by my father, without Flavia Bomitilla’s 
knowledge.” 

“ By your father I” exclaimed the divine Aurelia. “ But 
this is dreadful ! Ah ! I remember now, it was written 
on the ticket of sale that you are of free condition. It 
is then true ?” 

“ Yes, madam.” 

‘ ‘ And your father sold you ! A father may then sell his 
daughter ?” 

“ It seems so, madam, since the judges have declared that 
it could be done.” 

“ The judges ! What 1 judges have said this ? But, were 
you not defended by Pliny-the-Younger ?” asked Aurelia, 
remembering what Yibius had said. 

“ I do not know, madam. I know that I was brought 
before the Pretor, that I saw there my father, my betrothed, 
and other friends who claimed me. I know also that this 
man you call Begulus came to tell me, some time after, that 
there was no hope for me and I was really his slave. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


147 


But whether or not I was defended by Pliny-the-Younger, 1 
cannot say.” 

" ‘ However, you must he the same young girl of whom 
Vibius spoke has having been adjudicated to Regulus under 
Parmenon’s name, and sold to me by Parmenon! Poor 
child ! Poor child !” repeated Aurelia, gazing with compas- 
sionate tenderness on the young slave.” But why did your 
father sell you ? How you must hate him 1” 

“Hate him! Oh! no, madam! My father was very 
unhappy, and he thought he was pleasing his gods!” 

“ Your father then sacrificed you because you are a 
Christian ? But you should have abjured your creed, and he 
would not have sold you !” 

“ Doubtless, madam, I could have saved myself by this 
means. But we should not thus abjure our faith I” 

‘ ‘ "What ! even at the price of liberty ?” 

‘ ‘ At the price of liberty and even of life !” replied Cecilia 
in a firm voice. 

Admiration was succeeding to curiosity in Aurelia’s soul. 

Your religion is then very beautiful and very true, that 
it should inspire such sacrifice.^?” she asked with emotion. 

“ Madam^ when one is a Christian, one can bear every- 
thing, for the reward is above!” replied Cecilia, pointing 
to heaven. 

“ You speak like my cousin Flavia Domitilla,” remarked 
Aurelia, with a smile. “ She told me the same things when 
she sought to convert me to her faith. Do not try to conceal 
anything from me. 

‘ ‘ I know that my cousin is a Christian : I know that Fla- 
vius Clemens belongs to your religion. Yes, all this has 
been told me,” added the noble girl thoughtfully ; “but I 
confess that I did not believe the Christians could be so 
faithful to their God! What surprises me, however, is that 
Flavia Domitilla should have left you in the power of that 
Parmenon. It seems to me she is rich enough to have 
satisfied the greed of both Parmenon and Begulus.” 

“If she has not done so, it is because she could not,” 
replied the young girl, who was not aware of the immense 
oflers made by the pious matron. “ But,” she added, after 
a moment’s reflection, “ have you not told me that Pliny- 
the-Younger defended me in this suit ? This Pliny is a groat 


148 


AURELIA} OR, 


lawyer,! have heard him spoken of frequently. Do you think 
that a poor girl like me, that my father, who has nothing, 
could have secured the services of such a defender, if some 
high influence had not protected us ?” 

“That is true !’^ said the divine Aurelia, “you are 
riglit. So,” she resumed, following another train of thought, 
“this man Regulus wanted you to obey him, that is, I suppose, 
to reveal tliat my relations are Christians ?” 

Cecilia made no reply. 

“ Cecilia! . . . Cecilia ! do you not see that I know all ? 
l^^ly again this silence ? You refused to obey Regulus, did 
you not ?” 

“ You have said it, madam.” 

‘ ‘ But he was your master. And I am told he is a very 
wicked man.” 

Cecilia was again silent; but no longer from the same 
motive. The heroic child did not wish to make known the 
greatness of her sacrifice. 

The divine Aurelia had a revelation of this Christian feel- 
ing of generosity. She understood all this poor slave must 
have sufiered for resisting the will of a pitiless master. She 
walked slowly to the young girl, and pulling down the simple 
tunic she wore, laid bare her bosom and shoulders. 

A cry of horror escaped from Aurelia’s lips. 

Long scars, scarcely healed — the hideous proofs of the 
torturer’s cruelty and the victim’s constancy — spread their 
dark furrows in every direction on the delicate skin of the 
young Christian. 

The poor child hung down her head, in confusion ^ and 
dared not raise her eyes. The blushes which involuntarily 
covered her pale and sickly face, told her embarrassment. 

The divine Aurelia studied during an instant this candid 
physiognomy, upon which the virginal graces of her own age 
were blended with the traces of cruel sufferings ; then, una- 
ble to resist her emotion, and following the impulse of her 
heart, she threw herself, all in tears, in Cecilia’s arms, and 
pressed her young slave lovingly on her throbbing bosom. 

“You see, Cecilia,” cried the amiable girl, forgetful of 
her patrician pride, “ I love you ! Oh yes, I love you! for, 

I see it now, you have suffered for the sake of those who are 
dear to me, and you have saved them ! . . . But, I swear 


THE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


149 


it, your troubles are over now ! I swear it by your God . . 
and by mine !” 

And seizing Cecilia’s hand, she hurried with her through 
the atrium. Vibius Crispus had just come out of Cornelia’s 
room. 

“Why, Yibius ! Vibius! where are you going to, my dear 
guardian ?” cried the divine Aurelia, perceiving the unfortu- 
nate courtier who, plunged in deep thought, was crossing 
the atrium. ^‘What 1 I need you, and you are going away.” 

A^ibius hastened to cast off the anxious thoughts which 
clouded his brow, and turned, smiling with paternal fondness : 

‘ ‘ Am I not always at the command of my august ward ?” 
he said, approaching respectfully. 

“Follow me, my dear Vibius,” replied Aurelia. 

And still holding Cecilia’s hand, she went, followed by 
Vibius, to the room where Cornelia and Metellus Celer were 
still conversing. 

“ Here is,” she cried, as they entered, “the young girl I 
purchased to-day. I have interrogated her, and you will see 
whether she is a spy sent by Hegulus.” 

Still under the impression of the compassionate emotion 
which had filled her naturally generous heart at the discovery 
of Cecilia’s sufferings, Aurelia made a passionate narrative 
of what had passed between her and the young slave, and 
asked her horrified hearers what they thought of the poor 
child. 

The Grand- Vestal’s only reply was to draw the bashful 
young Christian to her and kiss her forehead. 

Neither Vibius Crispus, nor Metellus Celer expressed any 
surprise at the admiration shown by Aurelia for her humble 
slave, or at the tender caresses lavished upon her by the 
Grand-Vestal, whose eyes were filled with tears of sympathy. 

“ My dear Vibius,” resumed the divine Aurelia, “ this is 
not all; I want to give Cecilia her freedom. She was not 
born to be my slave, and I would reproach myself if I kept 
her away from her friends. Moreover, it is a gift I wish t / 
make to my cousin, Flavia Homitilla.” 

“Certainly, my dear ward ; but this is no easy matter . .” 

“AYhy so, if you please ! Am I not the mistress ?” 

“Yes and no, divine Aurelia.” 

‘ ‘What do you mean A^ibius ?” 

13 * 


150 


AURELIA; OR, 


*‘WIiy, first, there is the ^Elia Sentia law, which does not 
permit masters under twenty years of age to liberate their 
■laves ; and, then, there is Reguliis ...” 

‘ ‘ llegulus ! again that name !” exclaimed Aurelia impa- 
Uently. 

‘ ‘ Yes, llegulus, who could again lay his hand on this 
young girl, if she were set free in violation of the clause 
which prohibits her manumission.” 

“Very well,” said the diviije Aurelia ironically, “this 
man llegulus will prove more powerful than who am the 
"betrothed of Vespasian, the csesar and future emperor of the 
Romans ! . . . You are speaking in jest, guardian !” 

Vibius Crispus did not have time to frame an answer. As 
the young girl pronounced her cousin’s name, a slave appeared 
at the door, and, bowing low, announced in a loud voice : 

“ The Caesar Vespasian.” 

The young man entered, accompanied by a stranger whose 
venerable and holy features inspired respect. 

“ Ah! my dear cousin, how happy I am to see you!” 
♦xclaimed the artless Aurelia, springing into Vespasian’s 
arms. “It is so long since I have had this happiness. 
Vibius can tell you that I went to-day to Ponipey’s portico in 
the hope of meeting you, ... for no other motive. I 
wished so much to speak to you !” 

“Indeed, dear cousin,” replied the young man, who 
returned Aurelia’s caresses, with marks of sincere affection ; 
“and I also, wished to speak to you ! . . I come to see 
you concerning this child,” he added, pointing to Cecilia; 
“ I come, accompanied by the Supremo Pontiff of the Chris- 
tians, to claim her from your generosity. . .” 

‘ ‘ Ah !” exclaimed simultaneously Aurelia and her guests, 
their looks wandering from Cecilia to the Pontiff, and from 
the latter to Vespasian, as if to ask what tie could exist 
between three persons differing so widely in rank and station. 

Aurelia, although better informed of certain circumstances 
which enabled her to understand, to a certain extent, this 
unexpected reclamation, waited anxiously for her cousin to 
ttxplain his connection with it. Knowing that Cecilia was a 
Christian and protected by her relations, she would have felt 
no surprise had Flavia Doraitilla come to claim her ; but not 
being aware that, like all his family, her betrothed, Vespa- 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


151 


sian, had embraced the religion of Christ, she could not 
comprehend the motives for which he had been intrusted 
with this negotiation. 

And, in fact, we owe some explanations to the reader on 
this subject. 


CHAPTER XTY. 

THE CHRISTIAX PRIEST AND THE PAGAN VIRGIN. 

Y OUNG- Flavius, the son of Flavius Clemens and Flavia 
Domitilla, and named Vespasian by Domitian when the 
latter raised him and his brother to the dignity of Cmsars, 
was a little older than the divine Aurelia, for he was in his 
eighteenth year. 

He was a hopeful youth, with a noble, proud, and impetu- 
ous disposition, and withal gifted with rare modesty and 
moderation. Quintilian, the learned tutor of the two young 
princes, took much pains to form their minds, and in Vespa- 
sian, especially, he had found a ready and willing pupil. 
This young Cmsar had devoted himself principally to the 
study of eloquence ; notwithstanding the high rank to which 
he was destined, his ambition was to excel in this most diffi- 
cult of sciences, which the Romans held in such high 
esteem. 

The young man had perfectly understood that he must strive 
to acquire distinction without awakening the jealous suspicions 
of the emperor, and he had sought it in the study of letters. 
By this prudent course he had succeeded in gaining Domitian’s 
affection, so far, at least, as the latter’s nature was susceptible 
of feeling love. The two brothers would have been well 
satisfied to live like simple citizens, enjoying merely the honor 
due to their rank : the emperor, therefore, was satisfied with 
his choice, which disarmed other ambitions, and he continued 
to show his nephews much favor. 

Vespasian and Aurelia loved each other from childhood, 
and they had been betrothed even before Domitian had made 
any dispositions to leave the empire to the sons of Flavius 
Clemens. These two lovers, equally gifted by nature, were 


152 


AURELIA; OR, 


of totally d.fierent cliaraoters, Vespasian, as we have said, 
had that pride coiiimon to all Ptomaii patricians, hut tempered 
by a greatness of mind which made it a lofty virtue. Aurelia 
looked upon her high rank as the greatest of privileges, and 
her vanity did not always preserve her from the little weak- 
nesses which genera. ly accompany this secret infirmity of the 
most amiable minds. Dazzled by the prospect of the honors 
which awaited her, she often gave way to the capricious 
independence of supreme power. 

Flavia Domitilla, whose ardent zeal had met with so much 
success among the members of her family, had sought to 
convert her young cousin to the religion of Christ ; but 
Christianity and the empire were so incompatible at that time, 
that the patrician girl who saw in a change of religion the 
ruin of her magnificent hopes,, had rejected with supreme 
contempt the overtures made by the pious matron. 

Things had gone so far, that it was deemed expedient to 
conceal from the divine Aurelia the fact that her betrothed 
had deserted the creed of which the emperors were sovereign 
pontiffs, for fear that her regrets and complaints should reach 
Doinitian’s ears. The imperious and frivolous girl, who 
loved lier kindred with the passionate affection of a generous 
heart, had, however, sought to punish them for their repeated 
attempts to convert her, and we have already learned from 
Paloostrion’s conversation with llcgulus, that for some time 
past, she had ceased liolding intercourse with them. 

But now she had bought Cecilia ; the good news reached 
Flavia Domitilla, who hailed it as a happy omen. Yet, how 
could she see the young patrician after their quarrel ? How 
could Aurelia be asked in the name of Christ, whom she had 
refused to know, to give up a young girl whom her vanity 
would doubtless counsel her to keep. 

It was difficult for Flavia Domitilla and Flavius Clemens, 
who knew nothing of the secret dispositions of Aurelia, to 
intervene personally in this circumstance. And yet, it was 
important to seize an opportunity which might not present 
itself again. 

As they were discussing anxiously this question, Vespasian 
came up with Clemens, the Christian Bishop, who had become 
the successor of Peter, Anacletus having recently died. 
Clemens, it is said, was connected with the imperial family. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


153 


We merely mention the fact — it adds nothing to his merit or 
his virtues. 

The young csesar and the pontiff learned from Flavia Domi- 
tilla what had occurred, and the embarrassment in which she 
was, how to proceed. 

“But,” said Vespasian, “Aurelia cannot be angry with mo.” 

“Cecilia is our child,” added Clemens, who knew the 
young girl, and had been informed how she had gloiirled the 
name of Christ. “ It behooves mo to claim her, and to show 
to your young relation that, the Christians being brothers, 
we owe our first care to those who suffer. God will inspire 
me the words I must speak, and perhaps this child, so rebel- 
lious to divine grace, may at last be moved.” 

‘ ‘You will probably meet the Grand-Vestal there,” remarked 
Flavia Domitilla. “ I know that she has been living with 
Aurelia for some time past.” 

“Well,” replied the priest, with a smile, “the Grand- 
Vestal will learn that the pontiff of the Christians watches 
over the virgins confided to his care, not to chastise them as 
Helvius Agrippa does, but to return them to freedom and 
happiness when they have fallen into slavery. Do you think, 
pious matron, that this contrast will be useless ?” 

So it happened that Vespasian and Clemens made their 
appearance in the Grand-Vestal’s apartment, at Aurelia’s, 
when they were the least expected. 

A silent pause had followed Vespasian’s words. The 
young caesar reading in Aurelia’s eyes the desire that ho 
should explain his demand, resumed : 

“Yes, my dear Aurelia, our relation, Flavia Domitilla, 
whose envoys we are, hopes that she will obtain from you 
the release of this young girl, her sister in the faith of 
Christ.” 

“ Madam,” added the pontiff, in a gentle and penetrating 
voice, “lam the first pastor of an unhappy and desolate 
flock, and when one of my lambs groans and suffers, I run 
to save it. This is why I have come to you ! . .” 

“ My dear Vespasian, and you my lord,” replied Aurelia, 
anxious to show her good dispositions, “ you will tell Flavia 
Domitilla that I, whom she accuses of having no pity” — and 
she showed the letter received that day, and with which we 
have already made the reader acquainted — “I have forestalled 


154 


AVRELiA; OR, 


her wishes, and here, in this very room, as you came in, I 
was proposing to emancipate Cecilia.’^ 

“ That is true,” said Vibius, the Vestal and Metellus Celer. 

“Yes, madam,” added Cecilia softly^ “yes, I attest it 
also ; you wanted to return me to my friends ! Ah ! I shall 
never forget it !” 

“Wait, dear Vespasian,” resumed Aurelia, stopping the 
words of thanks on the young man’s lips, “wait! This is 
certainly what I wanted and what I still wish, but it seems 
that it is not possible I . . . ” 

“How is that,” exclaimed together the pontiff and the 
young csesar, with undisguised anxiety; for they knew what 
obstacles had prevented Cecilia’s deliverance, and they were 
fearful of new difficulties. 

“Here is Vibius, my guardian, who will try to explain 
the matter to you,” replied Aurelia. “ As for me, I cannot 
understand anything about it,” she added, all her impatience 
returning at the thought of this opposition to her will. 

Vibius Crispus gave, in a few words, the two reasons 
which, in his opinion, might defeat the generous intentions 
of his august ward. 

“ Are these the only obstacles?” remarked Clemens. “It 
seems to me that, with prudence, they might be easily over- 
come.” 

“That’s it! that’s it!” exclaimed Aurelia impetuously. 
“Vibius, my dear guardian, you will call immediately on 
Pliny-the- Younger, in my name. . . But there is something 
still more serious ! . 

And without observing her hearer’s astonishment, she 
added : 

“My dear Vespasian, do you know why I wish this young 
girl to be free? Ah! it is because there exists an infamous 
wretch, one named Begulus, who has sworn the ruin of my 
relations, and who spies their secrets. And Cecilia, who 
could have gained her freedom by denouncing them as Chris- 
tians, preferred to submit to the most cruel treatment rather 
than obey that man.” 

‘ ‘ Glory to God !” exclaimed the Pontiff gazing with 
emotion on the young Christian who had twice suffered for 
His name. “My daughter, you are great among us, for I 
see the halo of the martyr’s crown already on your brow. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


155 


Blessed be you ! . . And you also, madam, since your heart 
is noble enough to understand and reward this courage 

‘ ‘ 0 dear Aurelia,^’ said the young caesar, pressing her 
hand, “thanks! a thousand thanks in the name of all that 
are dear to me 1” 

“Madam,” resumed Clemens, “you said that Begulus 
wishes to know who we are. Begulus can easily satisfy his 
curiosity. Let him come to me and I will reveal to him 
what he styles our secrets.” 

“ Yet, my lord,” said Aurelia, “you praised Cecilia 
because she refused to speak.” 

“ Have you not said, madam, that they wanted her to 
betray your relations? I have justly admired this young 
girl who, at the price of liberty, refused to betray her breth- 
ren when some danger existed . . . but I do not believe 
that the knowledge of our secrets could serve the designs of 
our enemies.” 

“Madam,” continued the Pontiff, remarking the silent 
attention of his hearers, “and you, my lords^ let me tell you 
what are these Christians and their mysteries, and you will 
say whether we deserve the hatred which people bear us ! 

“The strangest slanders are circulated against us, and we 
are even accused of the most horrible crimes. The least 
prejudiced believe that our religion is vain and indecent, and 
I have heard, among other absurdities, that they laugh at 
our veneration for the consecrated head of an ass or a 
hog! Are not these,” he added, addressing Yibius and 
Metellus, “the stories you have heard?” 

Metellus and A^ibius replied that they had often heard of 
this ridiculous worship. 

‘ ‘ Do they not allege that^ in our assemblies, a young 
child, covered with flour in order to deceive the eye and to 
disguise the horror of the crime, is put to death by other 
children trained to inflict secret wounds ; and that the priest 
divides the bleeding and palpitating limbs among the Christians, 
who drink of this blood and eat of this flesh, swearing by this 
abominable pact mutual fidelity and eternal silence ?” 

“Yes,” replied Yibius Crispus and Metellus Celer. ‘ ‘Such 
are the accusations brought against the Christians.” 

“0 religion of Christ! 0 holy repasts of my brethren! 
0 assemblies of the elect !” exclaimed the Pontiff, ‘ ‘ why 


156 


AURELIA; OR, 


have error and falsehood disfigured our sacred ceremonies and 
calumniated the mysteries of divine love ? Ah ! is it not 
evident that these accusations are an excuse for those feasts 
of the Good Goddess, from which the Vestals withdraw hor- 
rified ; for those abominations of the Quinquatria of Minerva ; 
for those human sacrifices of Jupiter-Latiarus and of the days 
of Mars and Bellona ; for those impious conjurations Vv^lien 
cups of blood are drunk with enthusiasm ; for those detesta- 
ble religious feasts where the flesh of human victims is par- 
taken of as a wholesome and agreeable food ! . 

“’But, my lord,” remarked Vibius, interrupting the Pontiff, 
“you honor the cross! It is, they affirm, the sign and 
foundation of your creed!” 

Vibius, who could say nothing to contradict facts too patent 
to be denied, had found this grave objection. 

“ Yes, we honor the cross,” replied the priest, with 
respectful and saintly animation, “ yes, the cross is the great 
symbol and the sacred sign of the redemption we have come 
to announce ! This surprises you ? Oh ! I can understand 
that it should ! Borne cannot so suddenly lower her pride 
before the hated instrument of the slave’s punishment ! She 
must fear that which is the hope of those who suffer, and the 
condemnation of those who oppose ! But the times have 
commenced when the cross shall speak to the world of charity 
and justice, of truth and love, of the strength and wisdom 
which are unknown to it. The cross will teach the world 
that all men are brothers, by the spectacle of a God suffering 
ignominious death to save alike the master and the slave. 
It will cause to bud forth, everywhere, holiness of life, and 
that voluntary chastity, the glory of our virgins, which Borne 
could never obtain from the unhappy victims, torn since 
childhood from the joys of the family and condemned to 
an unwilling sacrifice, except through the terror of the 
most fearful punishment !” 

This allusion to the fate of the Grand- Vestal — so trans- 
parent and rendered so solemn by her present circumstances 
— caused those who listened to the pontiff’s words to shudder 
with painful emotion. 

Cornelia raised her eyes, so expressively sad, to the 
speaker, and as her glance met that of the priest, beaming 
with loving compassion, her features expressed a strange 
bitterness. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


157 


Here are,” resumed Clemens, “ all the mysteries of 
Christianity! Here is what I am charged to teach my 
brethren in our holy assemblies ! Here is what I can reveal 
to E-egulus, if he wishes to know what takes place among us ! 
Do you think, my lords, that our religion is a cloak for 
fearful crimes^ and that we can have much to fear from 
this man’s denunciations ? ...” 

And, as no reply was made, he proceeded : 

“At all events, we know howto suffer! Persecutions 
may afflict us; we shall accept them, glorifying God’s 
holy name, and forgiving our enemies. Yibius, you have 
seen, in Nero’s time, that Christians do not fear tortures ; 
and this young girl has proved what strength is found in the 
spirit of God ! Doubtless, hearts will still remain closed, for 
a long time, against the thoughts of mercy, the words of love, 
the principles of justice which our brethren alone can 
understand; but, at least, when they will liave seen the 
Christians die, they will find it difficult to believe th;.t so 
much courage and so great a contempt for life could be mot in 
men guilty of the atrocities we have been accused of commit- 
ing! Blood, if it is shed, will testify to the sanctity of 
our morals; it will become the fruitful germ from which 
thousands of new Christians will spring forth !” 

“ My lord,” said Aurelia, deeply moved, “ I want Cecilia 
to be in your midst, to-morrow ! Yibius, my dear guardian, 
this must be, do you hear ?” 

Yibius bowed respectfully, and promised to his august 
ward, that her wishes would be complied with, immediately. 

“Good bye, dear Yespasian,” said the young girl to 
her betrothed, who was following Clemens. “ Will not my 
relations consent to come here? . . .” 

“ Dear Aurelia,” exclaimed the young man, “ my father, 
my mother, Plavia Domitilla, all those who love you will be 
filled with joy ! And I will rejoice too, for your heart 
sympathizes with ours. You will see us again, soon ! . . .” 

“ Oh!” sighed the young girl, as she gazed pensively on 
the retreating form of her betrothed ; but she added not 
a word to this exclamation coming from the depth of her 
troubled heart. 

Yibius Crispus and Metellus Celer took leave of the two 
maidens, and withdrew. Aurelia called her nurse, and 
14 


158 


AURELIA; OR, 


placed Cecilia in the faithful woman’s care. Then, when 
she found herself alone with her who had been the guide 
pf her childhood, and whom she loved as a mother, she 
threw herself in her arms and wept silently . . . 

“Cornelia,” said she, at last^ “ Vespasian is a Christian ! 
All my dreams of happiness are ended !” 

“ Dear child,” said the Grrand-Vestal, pressing the weeping 
girl to her heart ;” this priest is great ! . . . And this religion 
very beautiful ! . . . Oh ! if I were not what I am ! . . . I 
also, have nothing left but fearful despair in my heart ! . . . 
Metellus ! Metellus ! . . . 0 implacable divinity ! . . . The 
monsters ! they will sacrifice us both ! . . .” 

Aurelia understood that there was here a still more bitter 
sorrow than her own, and suppressing her sobs, she embraced 
the vestal and left her to her sad reflections. 


CHAPTER XV. 

P II iE D 11 I A . 

C ECILIA’S emancipation was merely an act of bodily 
release, since^ being ingenuous or free born, she had 
become a slave only by legal fiction ; yet, it presented grave 
difficulties, as Yibius Crispus had foreseen. 

There was first the ^lia Sentia law, which prohibited the 
emancipation by a minor, unless there was just cause to 
permit the act. This just or legal cause depended upon 
various circumstances, seldom found united, and had besides, 
to be submitted to a council presided by the Pretor with the 
assistance of five senators and five knights. 

Aurelia had not yet attained the legal age — twenty years, 
— and no cause existed for her action, which could be 
admitted as just in law. 

The clause of non-emancipation specified by Parmenon, 
termed another serious obstacle. It could not hinder Aurelia 
from relinquishing her rights on the slave she had purchased, 
but it permitted Parmenon to replace his hand on Cecilia, the 
moment she should become free through the voluntary act of 
her mistress. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


159 


Plinj-tlie-Younger, upon being consulted by Vibius, 
attached importance only to this second difficulty ; the first 
appearing to him as a means of protection in case the 
slave-dealer should vindicate his rights. 

“One of the two things,” he said to Vibius; ‘^either 
Parmenon will claim the girl on the strength of this clause, 
or he will remain silent. This last hypothesis seems the 
most probable, for Kegulus, however great his audacity, will 
not dare to contend openly, before the pretor, against the 
power of the divine Aurelia, strengthened moreover by 
the influence of all her relations. 

" ‘ But I suppose the slave-dealer should interfere, well ! to 
prevent him from recovering possession of Cecilia, you will, 
yourself, in your quality of guardian, claim the nullity of the 
emancipation, as contrary to the .^Pllia Sentia law. The act 
being annulled, as I have no doubt it would be, your august 
ward can nevertheless carry out her generous intentions 
by simply permitting her slave to live in freedom, and no one 
will gainsay her right. 

Pliny-the- Younger’s advice was, therefore, that the legal 
emancipation should be attempted, and that it should be done 
in the most solemn manner, even if they had to fall back 
upon the very imperfect means suggested — to let Cecilia 
remain a slave in name, though free in fact. 

Consequently, Vibius Crispus informed his ward that 
it was possible to manumit Cecilia, but it would be necessary 
that she appear before the pretor. Aurelia replied that 
she was perfectly willing, and fixed the sixth hour of the day 
for the ceremony. She requested Vibius to call on Flavius 
Clemens and Vespasian and ask them if they would assist her 
on this solemn occasion. 

Flavius Clemens and Vespasian replied that it was their 
intention to unite themselves with their young relation in 
this act of generosity. 

Of the several modes of manumission existing in Borne, 
one only, the manumission per vindictain, could apply to 
Cecilia’s case, on account of Aurelia’s youth. It was 
moreover the oldest and most solemn of these forms. On 
this occasion, the high rank of the mistress and the peculiar 
circumstances connected with the slave’s history, increased 
the interest and added to the solemnity of the ceremon3^ 


160 


AURELIA; OR, 


Aurelia entered her litter at the hour appointed, and 
started for the forum, with the brilliant escort we have 
already described when we followed her to Pompey’s portico ; 
only, instead of her women she was now accompanied by 
vigorous and well-armed slaves. 

The young patrician was sad. Melancholy thoughts cast 
a cloud of gloom on her fair brow^ although her eyes rested 
on the handsome face of Vespasian who, seated in another 
litter with his father, greeted her with loving smiles. 

Vibius Crispus was on horseback, near his ward’s litter ; 
but he did little to dispel her sadness, for he was, himself, 
plunged in anxious thought. The unfortunate courtier, while 
compelled to obey his ward, trembled for the consequences of 
a struggle against Regulus. Was there not some hidden 
danger in this affair? What would the Emperor think 
when he would learn that Vibius had mingled in the 
enterprises of the Christians, or at least that he had helped 
to restore the freedom of a girl belonging to this hated 
sect ? 

He could augur nothing good from the difficult and 
dangerous undertaking in which he had become entangled 
against his will. He could scarcely disguise his irritatio'n 
whenever his eyes fell on Cecilia, who walked before him 
escorted by some of Aurelia’s waiting women. 

The young girl was clad in the garb of a slave, required 
by the circumstances, and which she must wear until, the 
pretor’s wand having been extended over her head, she would 
hear the solemn words which would make her free. 

This dress consisted in a plain tunic of coarse woollen stuff, 
descending a little below the knee, and fastened around the 
waist with a narrow belt: But she wore on her head a small 
cap, insignia of the freedom she was going to obtain. 

Aurelia would have liked to spare the young girl the 
humiliation of preceding her on foot, in the midst of her 
pompous escort ; but the imperious rules of etiquette and 
time consecrated usage must be obeyed, and all she could do 
was to commit her to the care of some of her most trusted 
women. 

When Aurelia’s cortege appeared in the Forum, an im- 
mense clamor, a cry of joy and hope, ascended from the crowd. 
All the friends of Cecilia had hastened to the Forum, upon 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


161 


learning from tlie pontiff Clemens the news of her approaching 
release. They were mostly Jews from the neighborhood of the 
Capena-Gate. v.dio crowded round Cecilius, Olinthus, and old 
Petronilla who had come to receive in her arms, the child 
that God was about to restore to her. 

We shall not do our friend Gurges the injustice to forget 
his presence in the first rank of the multitude gathered around 
the prctor s court. The worthy vespillo made himself very 
disagreeable to his neighbors by the exhuberance of his 
joy, and the gestures he frequently addressed to his com- 
panions. He had brought with him his father’s hired men, 
but merely as a measure of precaution, for he had ceased to fear 
Regulus, and he was ready to knock down any one who 
would have asserted that the vile informer could interfere. 
The precaution was a good one however, for Regulus 
v/as there, not far from Parnienon, and waiting to see what 
would occur. 

Gurges was at first thunderstruck by this double apparition ; 
bat he had got over his emotion, and his anger rising as he 
accounted for the presence of these two ruffians, he resolved 
to exterminate them if they made the least hostile demonstra- 
tion. This was the cause of the extraordinary excitement 
manifested by the worthy vespillo. 

Meanwhile, Aurelia’s Numidian horsemen had succeeded 
in forcing a passage through the dense crowd, and her litter 
had stopped in front of the Pretor’s curule chair. The young 
girl stepped out, leaning on her guardian’s arm, and Flavius 
Clemens and Vespasian took their place by her side. 

The Pretor’s lictors lowered their fasces, in token of respect 
for the consular citizen and the heir of the empire. 

Cecilia was placed opposite her mistress, who, smiling 
kindly, placed her hand on her slave’s head. Yibius Crispus 
could not help starting, as Aurelia performed this first act of 
the ceremony of manumission, for Parmenon, followed by 
Regulus, had approached, and almost touched him. 

Gurges actually roared with rage, and sprang forward, 
followed by his men, to surround the slave-dealer and his 
companions. Olinthus imitated the vespillo’s movements. 

Amidst the deep silence of the anxious multitude, the 
Pretor asked Aurelia the motive of her appeal to justice. 
The young girl, her hand still resting on Cecilia’s head, 
14 * 


162 


AURELIA; OR, 


replied that she had come with the intention of granting 
freedom to the slave who had become hers by virtue of a 
regular act of mancipation. She then added, in a firm and 
©lear voice, which was heard by all the crowd : 

“ I want this young girl to be free !” 

Having pronounced these words, she withdrew her hand 
from Cecilia’s head. The Pretor then took a long, narrow 
wand which he extended over the slave’s head, and giving 
her a slight blow on the cheek, pronounced the formula : 

“ I declare,, young girl, that thou art free, by the law of 
the Quirites.” 

The magistrate’s lictor, taking Cecilia’s hand, now made 
her turn a complete circle and let her go — a last symbolic 
ceremony which meant that she was free to go where she 
pleased. 

As Cecilia turned to spring into the friendly arms opened 
to receive her, Parmenon rushed forward to seize her. But 
the slave-dealer reckoned without Gurges, who was closely 
watching him, and who throwing himself between him and 
his victim, struck him a terrible blow in the face, which sent 
him rolling amidst the crowd. A thunder of applause greeted 
this act of vigor. 

In order to explain the successful hit made by the gallant 
Vespillo, we must reveal the fact that Gurges to make sure 
of victory had slipped his hands into a pair of iron-clad 
leather gauntlets, not unlike the modern instrument known 
as “brass-knuckles,” and the terrible weight of which few 
men could resist. The slave-dealer had fallen, bruised and 
bleeding, and was writhing with pain and rage, giving vent 
to the most fearful threats and imprecations, but unable to 
rise. 

A scene of confusion and disorder ensued. Begulus, 
tearing his garments, clung to the Pretor’s curule chair, 
and clamored loudly for justice. Meanwhile, Parmenon’s 
people attempted to throw themselves on Gurges, and avenge 
their master; but Aurelia’s Numidians and other armed 
slaves coming to the rescue with the Yespillo’s companions, 
the slave-dealer’s hirelings were compelled to fall back. 
Threats and furious clamors were heard on all sides, and the 
(^cited crowd seemed ready to take part in the conflict. 

At last, the Pretor, Publius Aufidius Namusa, who had 
not deemed proper to prevent the struggle which, as we have 


THE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


163 


already stated, generally preceded sucli contestations for the 
vindication of a claim, thought that it was time to bring it to 
an -end, and ordered his crier to proclaim silence, and his two 
lictors to restrain the multitude. 

Order was instantly restored. 

“ Who is the citizen that claims justice?” demanded the 
crier. 

“ I am the man !” replied Parmenon^ in a voice hoarse with 
pain and rage; and he dragged himself forward, with the 
help of two of his men. 

“What do you want?” inquired the magistrate. 

“ I want to replace my hand on the slave who has been 
manumitted in violation of the express stipulation of my deed 
of sale.” 

“ What clause was that?” 

“ That Cecilia could never be emancipated. She has been 
set free ! Aurelia could transfer her rights to another party, 
but she could not give the slave her freedom. I, therefore, 
claim Cecilia as my property I” 

“ The clause is legal,” said the Pfetor, amidst the general 
anxiety. “ You have the right to make this claim, and I 
grant it, provided it is not contested.” 

Yibius Crispus, assisted by Pliny-the-Younger, then 
stepped up, and declared that as Aurelia’s guardian he made 
opposition to Parmenon’s claim. He was proceeding to state 
the grounds of his opposition, when, having cast his eyes on 
the slave-dealer, ho stopped suddenly, struck with stupor. 

The extraordinary change which had taken place in Par- 
menon, was indeed likely to astonish any one. His features 
had lost their wonted expression of audacity, to assume that 
of excruciating anguish. In prey to the most abject fear, 
he trembled in all his limbs_, a cold sweat oozing from the 
pores of his face, mingled with the blood that trickled from 
his ^^ound. Ho was hideous to behold I gnashing his teeth 
and looking at Pegulus with that expression of mute suppli- 
cation which the human face assumes in presence of some 
terrible, unavoidable danger ! 

But llegulus, himself, seemed overwhelmed by a strange 
fear and dared not to raise his eyes. 

A young citizen, accompanied by an old man, had silently 
wended his way through the crowd, and upon reaching the 


164 AURELIA', OR, 

Pretor’s tribunal, had laid his hand heavily on Parmenoii’s 
head. 

The slave-dealer turning round abruptly had seemed 
thunderstruck, and had fallen on his knees, upon recognizing 
him whose hand was thus proudly laid on him, and whose 
calm, penetrating and implacable gaze made him cower. 

This j^oung man w: s Metellus Oeler, and his companion, 
Sositheus, the faithful freedman ! 

Since his arrival in Rome with his master, a few days 
previous, Sositheus had devoted his time to seeking some clue 
that would put him on the track of Lucius Metellus’ mur- 
derer. He hoped that the time which had elapsed since the 
first investigations were made, Metellus Celer’s subsequent 
exile, and consequently the security of impunity, might have 
led Phaedria to return to Rome. Two days previous to the 
scene we are describing, Sositheus was wandering through 
the streets, after dark, peering into the taverns, and 
examining every face he met, when the sound of a voice speak- 
ing at some distance, startled him. Hastening in the direction 
from which the sound had come, he saw a man of tall 
stature leaving a house, whose door was immediately closed. 

Sositheus could not see the features of this man, but his 
form was familiar and the faithful freedman felt his heart 
throb with revengeful exultation at the thought that his 
suspicions awakened by the voice, might prove correct. He 
followed the stranger who was hurrying through the dark 
streets, and never lost sight of him, although his aged limbs 
scarcely permitted him to keep up the pursuit. 

After many turnings the man reached one of the taverns 
in the Villa puhlica, and knocked at the door, calling to those 
within in a voice that again caused the freedman to start. 
The door opened and closed upon the stranger, who had no 
suspicion that he had been followed. Sositheus having 
examined the tavern and its surroundings, in order to recog- 
nize it, sought some drinking shop in the neighborhood, 
where he could make inquiries without raising suspicion. 

There was no scarcity of such establishments in the Villa 
puhlica, and the old freedman was embarrassed only in 
making his choice. He selected one of the most brilliant in 
appearance ; and being decently clad and well provided with 
sestertii, he found in its owner a willing and complaisant 
talker. 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


165 


Sositheus having described the appearance and indicated 
the residence of the stranger, was told that it must be one 
Parmenon, a slave-dealer, who did a large business and 
always kept a fine assortment of slaves. The inn keeper 
evidently held him in great esteem, and recommended him 
warmly to the old freedman, whom he took to be a purchaser 
in search of a slave-dealer. 

Sositheus took good care not to undeceive him, and having 
obtained all the information he sought, bade him good night, 
promising to call again soon. The old man then hastened to 
join Metellus Celer, to inform him that he felt almost certain 
that he had discovered Phagdria, concealed under the name 
of Parmenon and keeping a slave tavern in the Villa puhUca. 

It was surely Parmenon whom Sositheus had followed ; 
but the question was whether Parmenon and Phaedria were 
one and the same person. Metellus Celer, who, necessarily, 
had to act with great circumspection, wished Sositheus to 
ascertain positively this fact, before taking any decisive steps. 

• On the next day Sositheus returned to thePVZ?a puhUca^ 
and found Parmenon exhibiting his slaves to the crowd. 
The cautious old man, concealed behind a pillar, remained 
for long hours scrutinizing the features of the slave-dealer — 
anxiously watching every muscle of that hideous face. But 
Parmenon was so strangely disfigured by the numerous scars 
which had eaten deep into the flesh, distorting every feature, 
that Sositheus hesitated to recognize Phaedria under this 
inscrutable mask. It was the same voice, the same treach- 
erous eye, the same tall form and ruffianly insolence, and yet 
it might not be Phaedria. 

Sositheus after witnessing the sale of Cecilia, returned 
home, wavering in his first suspicions and almost discouraged. 

“Very well,” remarked Metellus Celer, when his old 
freedman related to him these facts, “to-morrow I shall 
go, myself, to the Villa puUica and, by all the gods ! if 
that man is Phaedria, I will recognize him !” 

When Metellus went to the tavern, on the next day, Par- 
menon was not there ; he was closeted with Marcus 
Bcgulus. 

The informer had heard of Aurelia’s projects, and ascer- 
tained the hour at which she would go to the Forum. He 
was, in consequence, giving his last instructions to his 


166 


AURELIA; OR, 


accomplice and making kim rehearse the part he would have 
to play before the Pretor. 

Metellus Celer waited a long time near the tavern, hoping 
that the slave-dealer would return ; biit he finally became 
convinced that further delay was useless when the usual hour 
for the public sales was past. 

‘ ‘ I shall come again to-morrow,” said the young man. He 
had resolved not to leave Eome until he would have examined 
this clue, however vague and uncertain, by which he might 
possibly find his father’s murderer. 

He was returning by the Forum, the nearest way to 
Aurelia’s house, where, notwithstanding the advice of Yibius 
Crispus, he wished to see the Grrand-Y estal once more, when, 
at the entrance of the place he found his progress impeded 
by the dense crowd assembled to witness Cecilia’s emanci- 
pation. 

The young man recognized Aurelia’s Numidian horsemen, 
who, mounted on their high steeds, towered above the crowd, 
and a cry of joy escaped his lips. Why had he not remem- 
bered it sooner ? She was there to manumit Cecilia and the 
young slave having been bought from Parmenon, this man 
whom he suspected of being his father’s murderer, must 
doubtless be present also. 

Like an echo of his own exclamation, another cry rose 
from the midst of this multitude which hid the tribunal from 
his eyes. This sound which made Metellus and his faithful 
Sositheus start and exchange a look of triumphant hope, was 
the cry of pain and rage uttered by Parmenon as he fell 
under the dexterous blow of the valiant vespillo. 

Metellus pressed forward, followed by Sositheus, the people 
opening their ranks before him as if they foresaw that a new 
incident of powerful interest was about to occur. Having 
reached the wide circle formed by the lictors of Aufidius 
Namusa, Metellus laid his hand on the slave-dealer, and in a 
loud voice, pronounced this single word : 

“ Phasdria!” 

The trouble of the wretch when he heard this familiar and 
terrible voice, and felt the contact of this sovereign hand, 
left no doubt in the young Eoman’s mind. 

Concentrating in his look all the hatred and revengeful 
fury that filled his soul, he added, with the same terrible 
calmness of tone ; 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


167 


“Phaedria, you recognize me ! I have got you, at last ! 
See !” 

His sharp sword had cut opened Parmenon’s toga, and he 
pointed to the letters L. M.^ branded on the wretch’s shoulder, 
and which proved that he was the property of Lucius Metellus. 

A short and fearful pause ensued, during which the by- 
standers contemplated this strange scene with silent stupor. 
Then Metellus raised the short, sharp blade, and plunged it 
into the breast of Phaedria : 

“ Murderer of my father,” he cried, in a voice of thunder, 

‘ ‘ let Tartarus receive you !” 

Phaedria fell like a heavy mass ; one convulsive shudder 
shook his powerful frame, and he was dead. 

The awe-stricken multitude recoiled with a cry of horror ; 
and the Pretor, who did not know Metellus Celer, ordered 
his lictors to seize the man who had desecrated his tribunal 
by the murder of a citizen. 

The young man smiled disdainfully. 

“ Aufidius Namusa,” said he, turning to the magistrate, 

when has a master, in Konie, lost the right of putting his 
slave to death ? I am Metellus Celer, and this man, who 
murdered my father, was my slave ! Do you understand 
now what I have done ?” 

The Pretor declared that Metellus Celer had acted right- 
fully ; and there being no other case for trial, he left the 
Forum. 

“This is the day of justice!” said Metellus. “Young 
girl,” he added, addressing Cecilia, “you have never been 
a slave, for this Parmenon had no right to buy you 1 But 
yet, he remarked, pointing to Aurelia, “remember always 
with what generous kindness that noble hand rested on your 
head!”^ 

Cecilia, prostrate at Aurelia’s feet, kissed her hands and 
bathed them with grateful tears, more eloquent than words. 

Petronilla, the sublime virgin, had fallen on her knees, 
and with eyes raised to heaven, gave utterance to her joy in 
the sacred language of the canticles : 

‘ ‘ Lord, the glory of Thy name hath manifested itself ! . . . 
0 terrible and good God, Thy right hand hath crushed the 
strong and raised the child I . . . ” 

Cecilia ran to her, and they held each other in a long and 
tender embrace. 


168 


AURELIA; OR, 


She then went to her father who clasped her in his arms 
and wept; and she held out her hands to Olinthus and 
Gurges. But the joyful, emotion of being surrounded by all 
she loved was too much for the poor child who had suftered 
with so much fortitude, and she fainted. 

“Glory to God! Praised be the Lord’s holy name!” 
repeated the pious Christian women, as they surrounded 
Cecilia and tried to revive her. 

“Dear Aurelia!” said Flavius Clemens and Vespasian, to 
their young relation, “you have been the chosen instrument 
of Providence !” 

The young girl gave them a long, sad look, but made no 
reply. She did not even smile ! and when she stepped into 
her litter, her pale face was bathed in tears. Cries of wild 
enthusiasm greeted her, a thousand voices united to thank 
and bless her, but she remained pensive and indifferent, 
absorbed in the secret thought which was gnawing at her 
young heart. 

As Metellus followed the crowd which was slowly wending 
its way out of the Forum, a man approached him and whispered 
in his ear : 

“ Metellus, this is the second time I have found you in my 
way . . . Take care that we do not meet a third time !” 

The young man turned round to see who had spoken, and 
recognized Begulus flying by the sacred way ! 

A few minutes later, silence reigned in the deserted Forum. 




Part Third — The Vestal. 


CHAPTER I. 

BEFORE THE STORM. 

A FEW months have, elapsed since the events that filled 
the first parts of our narrative. The physiognomy of 
Rome has changed, because there is one man more in the 
great city, and that man is the Emperor Domitian ! His 
presence is a perpetual threat, and who knows but it 
announces the realization of the fearful schemes conceived 
before his departure and matured during his absence? 

And yet, we shall find the various characters of our story 
in comparative quiet. Persecutors and victims are equally 
at peace, and nothing shows that a storm is brewing overhead. 

The poor Jews of the Capena-Grate have celebrated with 
touchiug rejoicings the wedding of Cecilia and Oliuthus. 
Flavia Domitilla and Aurelia have secured by their generosity, 
joy and abundance under thereof of the young pair. We 
therefore now find Cecilia a matron, and she carries this new 
title becomingly. Her graceful face has recovered the bloom 
of health and youth ; and no trace remains of her past 
sufferings, save a tinge of melancholy which adds a new 
attraction to her classic style of beauty. 

Olinthus has rented a comfortable house in the Palatine, 
so that Cecilia should not be far from Flavia Homitilla, whose 
mission of mercy she still shares ; from Aurelia, who is never 
happier than when the young matron visits her, and from 
Cornelia who would like to keep her forever in the Atrium 
Regium. (1^^) 


170 


AURELIA; OK, 


But Cecilia cannot forget the poor exiles of the Capena- 
Gate — Petronilla, Eutyehia, and all those who love her so 
well — her longest and most frequent visits are for the little 
colony of Christians. There is so much misfortune to relieve, 
so many tears to dry, in that unwholesome and neglected 
section of Komc ! If Cecilia was moved with compassion 
when she was a stranger for those unfortunates, how much 
more she must feel for them now that she has become their 
sister by the double ties of faith and gratitude ! 

She would not be rich. She asked those generous friends 
who wished to share their wealth with her, to leave her at 
least some of the poverty of Christ. But when some great 
want is felt among her poor brethren, she runs to Flavia 
Domitilla, or, better still, to Aurelia, or to the Grand-Vestal, 
to teach them how to open their heart to the sweetest enjoy- 
ments of the greatest of Christian virtues. 

Cecilia has evidently an object in doing this ; but she does 
not speak of it, and she selects indirect means to accomplish 
it ; this is often the surest and quickest way to arrive at one’s 
ends. Cecilia is happy now ; happy in her faith and in the 
love of Olinthus ; happy in the affection she has inspired 
others, for the feelings which our acts awaken resemble the 
perfumes which act on the senses : they penetrate the most 
modest souls. 

The young matron, notwithstanding her youth and humble 
condition, shed, without knowing it, a sort of halo around 
her. The Christians of Capena-Gate venerated her almost 
as much as Petronilla, and this was natural ; she was the 
only one among these men and women who had had the glory 
to suffer for Christ’s sake and to confess his name. In the 
household of the consul, Flavius, the like pious homage was 
rendered the courageous girl, mingled with a'lively gratitude 
for her devotion to the security of this noble family. 

From Aurelia and the Grand-Vestal, Cecilia received equal 
marks of affection ; but Aurelia’s friendship was free from the 
calculations of self-interest which influenced, perhaps too 
much, Cornelia’s feelings. 

The Grand-Vestal had resumed her ministry in the Atrium 
Regium, and Metellus Celer, following the prudent advice of 
Vibius Crispus, had left Rome, to seek an inaccessible retreat. 
But he wrote, from time to time, to Cornelia, and his letters 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


171 


were handed her hy Cecilia who received them from an 
unknown messenger. 

Between the Grand- Vestal and the young man, there was 
more than the austere sentiment resulting from gratitude ; a 
more tender feeling had crept, unwittingly in their hearts. 
Cornelia’s love was the more vehement, for being the first 
bright dawn of happiness, lighting up the darkness of a life 
consumed by despair. She had only one year to wait to 
recover her freedom, and then ! . . . 

But will Metellus Celer, the young knight of twenty-eight 
wed the virgin whose beauty has faded amidst the bitter 
regrets of long years of solitude ? Will he not hesitate before 
the fatal omens attached to the marriage of vestals relieved 
of their vows at the age of thirty-six years? Will his love 
be stronger than these obstacles ? Cornelia suffered in secret, 
all the tortures of doubt, for she dared not confide to any 
one, the fears and hopes which alternately filled her heart. 

Cecilius enjoyed perfect happiness near his daughter and 
the young centurion whom he proudly called his son-in-law. 
The ex-tax-gatherer’s opinion concerning those accursed J ews 
he formerly persecuted with so much rigor, had undergone a 
great change. He was seen frequently in the neighborhood 
of the Capena-Gate, but it was not, as of old, to carry deso- 
lation among the poor exiles; Cecilius, it was said, had 
become a Christian, saw none but Christians, and faithfully 
attended all their assemblies. 

Caius-Tongilianus-Vespertinus-Gurges, was no longer a 
simple vespillo. His father had handed him the sceptre 
of Libitina, and he was now one of the most respected 
citizens of the neighborhood of the Maximus Circus. Never- 
theless, Gurges asked no woman to come and share the 
honors of his new dignity; and he replied to those who 
advised him to marry, that it would be time enough to think 
of it, when the gods would show him another Cecilia. 

It will be seen that Gurges had remained a worshipper of 
Venus-Libitina, his favorite divinity, but this did not keep 
him from calling as frequently as possible, at the house of 
Cecilia and Olinthus, those two Christians who, from time 
to time, made some friendly attacks on his religious ideas. 

But Gurges held that all religions are good, provided one 
is an honest man. Evidently, Gurges was a great philosopher. 


172 


AURELIA; OR, 


The new undertaker of funerals had finally ceased all com- 
mercial transactions with Eutrapeles; so completely, indeed, 
that the funeral agent who would have dared to rob the grave 
of a handful of hair or a single tooth, for the benefit of the 
barber, would have been immediately expelled from the 
honorable corporation of Libitina. 

Clurges had a deep grudge against Eutrapeles about the 
matter of Parmenon’s register. He contended that the 
tonsor should have been more far-sighted^ and not get a friend 
involved in such trouble. 

Eutrapeles never spoke of this adventure in which he had 
been indirectly mingled. It caused him some anxiety for 
the high dignity with which he hoped to see his zeal rewarded. 
He endeavored to conjure the disastrous effects of this 
unlucky affair, by devoting himself still more to the political 
education of his magpie, and by praising loudly a treatise on 
the art of 'preserving the hair, recently written byDomitian.* 

As for Slarcus Kegulus he led the most retired life in his 
magnificent mansion beyond the Tiber. One would have 
thought that he was trying to be forgotten, and that he 
thought no longer of the Yestal Cornelia or of the Christians 
— those two objects of his hatred, for whose ruin he had 
labored so zealously. 

There were several reasons for this seeming indifference, 
which will appear as we proceed with our narrative ; but we 
must mention one of these causes, as being directly connected 
with the events already known to the reader. 

Cecilia^s liberation, and the death of Parmenon, recognized 
as Phaedria, the murderer of Lucius Metellus, interfered with 
his plans, since he must renounce the hope of discovering the 
•ecrets of the Christians, and he lost a valuable accomplice 
upon whom he relied for the accomplishment of his wicked 
designs. But there was a danger arising from this last event. 
Metellus Celer’s suspicions were correct, when he surmised 
that his father’s death and the destruction of Vespasian’s 
villa had been ordered by Domitian, carefully planned by 
Marcus Begulus, and consummated by Phsedria, the ignoble 
instrument chosen for this hideous deed. 


«Suet. in Domit, Cap. 18. This author quotes a few lines from this treatise. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


173 


Domitian, dreaming of placing himself higher than 
humanity; proclaiming himself a god, and erecting a temple 
in Rome, on the very spot where had stood his humble, 
native roof, could not wish to see preserved the proofs of 
his low origin and the place where Vespasian and Titus 
delighted in finding the traces of the mediocrity and plebeian 
fortune of the Fabius family. Moreover, Reata and Phala- 
crina had been filled with rumors of foul play at the death of 
Titus, and, possibly, Lucius Metellus, the friend of Vespasian, 
and living in his villa, did not take pains to contradict these 
reports which reached Domitian’s ears. 

This cruel tyrant had therefore resolved that Lucius 
Metellus should die, and that the house which had been the 
cradle of his own family, should be destroyed. But a certain 
prudence in the execution of this plan was necessary, and 
the Emperor was somewhat embarrassed how to proceed, 
when Regulus ofiered him his services. The vile informer 
had read Domitian’s thoughts, and hoped to gain his entire 
confidence and favor by assuming the responsibility of this 
heinous crime. 

He got a slave-dealer to ofifer Lucius Metellus the slave 
Phaedria, whom he had more than once used in his criminal 
schemes. Pha3dria’s instructions were to ingratiate himself 
in his new master’s favor, whilst secretly inciting the other 
slaves to revolt ; and when the time would come, to lead them 
to the attack, murder the old man and his son and bury them 
in the ruins of their home. By this means, the double 
crime could never be charged to the Emperor, but would be 
looked upon as the result of one of those servile insurrections 
so frequent in isolated districts. 

Freedom and a sum of money sujficient to start him in life, 
were to be Phaedria’s reward. We have seen how faithfully 
he accomplished his task. Only one of the designated victims 
escaped : Metellus Celer, who did not return home in time to 
share his father’s fate. 

Phaedria summoned Regulus to fulfil his promise. The 
informer was willing, for he now held the slave in his power 
by this bond of crime, and he would make further use of 
him; but how should he conceal him from the son, from 
Metellus Celer, who was searching Rome and even Italy for 
his father’s murderer ? Until the young man could be got 
15 * 


174 


AURELIA; OR, 


rid of, Phgedria was sent to Asia Minor. He was provided 
with false papers and was to change his name, and to disfigure 
his features so as to he unrecognizable. Regulus would call 
him back v/hen it would be safb. 

It was then that Metellus Celer found himself surrounded 
by snares, and came nigh perishing, being saved only by the 
timely interference of the Glrand-Vestal. Implicated a 
second time, he had been compelled to leave Romo for safety. 
Phasdria could now return ; which he did, under the name 
of Parmenon, and with his face so horribly disfigured that we 
have seen the faithful Sositheus hesitate to recognize him. 
Regulus set him up as a slave-dealer in a tavern which 
belonged to him, and allowed him one-third of the profits. 

These two wicked men feared and hated each other. 
Regulus held his accomplice in his power as a fugitive slave, 
a murderer and incendiary; but Parmenon could divulge 
that the informer had been the instigator of these crimes. 
He had, besides, his suspicions as to Domitian’s connection 
with the schemes of which he had been the instrument. 
Domitian could not forgive Regulus for allowing him to be 
suspected. 

When Parmenon fell under the avenging sword of Metellus 
Celer, two contradictory feelings filled the informer’s breast : 
hateful rage against the man who defeated his ambitious 
hopes ; and a sense of relief, a grateful joy at being rid of a 
wretch who often made him tremble. 

However, this event had caused a good deal of excitement ; 
people in their surmises came very near the truth, and certain 
reports were circulated which gave Regulus much uneasiness. 

Such was the state of things when the Emperor, having 
successfully terminated the war against the Dacians, returned 
triumphant, to the capital of the world. 

Since his return, the Emperor had not terrified Rome with 
any of the cruelties which generally marked his presence. 
This was an unheard of circumstance ! Had his fury been 
satiated by his former crimes, and had reason at last cured 
him of his unfounded suspicions? Were the Christians 
happy enough to be, if not loved, at least forgotten by the 
Emperor ? 

No. Domitian hated and feared more than ever ; but he 
waited. Regulus had had a long interview with the tyrant. 


THE JEWS OF OAF ENA GATE. I75 

Tliey had parted with smiles on their lips, a sure sign of some 
sinister project. 

Yet, not a drop of blood had been shed. 

But, before we proceed with our narrative, let us devote a 
short chapter to this son of Vespasian and brother of Titus, 
and give the reader an insight of his character. 


CHAPTER II. 

DOMITIAN. 

F lavius DOMITIANUS, the twelfth Ceesar, was born 
in the year 802 (A. D. 51,) on the ninth of the ealends 
of November (24th of October,) in a house of modest ap- 
pearance, in the sixth Region of Rome, styled Alta-Semitay 
and which was situate in the Vicus known under the name of 
Ad Malum- Puniciim. This was the house which he subse- 
quently converted into a sumptuous temple, erected in honor 
of the Elavia race. 

He was the third child of Vespasian, whose first-born, a 
girl, died in her youth ; the second was Titus, of glorious 
memory. Domitian little resembled his father, and much 
less his brother. 

Vespasian’s children were born before he had accumulated 
wealth ; his wife’s father, Flavius Liberalis, was a simple 
clerk in the Treasury. Domitian, during his youth, suffered 
therefore all the privations of poverty ; which did not prevent 
him, however, from disgracing himself by leading a life of 
disorder and debauchery. 

Vespasian’s fortune having grown, Domitian and his 
brother Titus were brought up in Nero’s court. Domitian, 
like his brother, was probably sitting near Britannicus, when 
this young prince fell lifeless after drinking the poison poured 
into his cup by order of the fratricide Nero. Titus, who had 
tasted the murderous drink, came very i^ear losing his life. 

Domitian could then learn from Nero how to get rid of a 
brother ; and from the courtiers how cowardice disguised 
even the involuntary paleness of their cheeks, which the Em- 
peror might have construed as a vague reproach for his crime. 


176 


AURELIA; OR, 


Did Domitian, at a later day, remember this fearful lesson 
and wish to imitate it ? The contemporary historians hesitate 
to charge him with this murder ; but it is said that he had 
hastened the death of Titus by having him plunged into a tub 
full of snow, under the pretext of cooling the internal heat 
of which the moribund prince complained. 

What is certain is that Titus had scarcely drawn his last 
breath, when Domitian hastened to Rome and had himself 
proclaimed Emperor by the Pretorians. 

Like Nero, he showed, at first, an hypocritical moderation, 
and his reign had a happy beginning ; but already there could 
be discovered the ridiculous and insatiate vanity, the mixture of 
vices and virtues which constituted his character. He was not 
long showing himself in his true light, and revealing his 
tyrannical duplicity, his avaricious greed, his studied cruelty, 
inspired by the strange, suspicious fears which ever haunted 
him. 

From this time his series of crimes commenced and con- 
tinued without interruption : sometimes slowly combined and 
deeply meditated ; at others, perpetrated with the suddenness 
of madness. 

He seldom accomplished these murders, however, without 
preceding them with a sort of trial. One of his dearest 
ambitions was even that he should be looked upon as a great 
and wise judge, and Suetonius relates of him several instances 
of remarkable integrity. He often presided over the Senate 
and the courts, and his voice was never more choked by 
emotion, and his hypocritical protestations of indulgence more 
profuse, than when he attached importance to a condemnation. 

The Senate, invested by the armed cohorts, scrutinized by 
the Emperor, who counted the sighs and noted even the pallor 
of the features, had not the courage to refuse. “ Nobody,” 
says Pliny-the-Younger, “dared to speak, except the first 
called upon to give his opinion; the others, mute and passive, 
made a simple gesture of acquiescence, and thus it was that 
one alone proposed what all accepted with great sorrow and 
involuntary fear, but succumbing to the shameful intimidations 
of tyranny.” 

The facts presented were often vague and insignificant, but 
he knew how to give them weight by speaking of threatening 
conspiracies, of attempts against his person or his power, and 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


177 


of rebellions against the laws and institutions of the empire. 
When the charges were so trifling that they could not be 
brought before the Senate, he employed secret or indirect 
means, such as poison, exile to distant lands where death 
awaited the victim, or moral tortures which drove the per- 
secuted wretch to seek relief in voluntary death. 

When he had obtained from the Senate a sentence con- 
formable to his wishes, he gloated upon the execution of the 
victim and the sight of blood. He was, therefore, even more 
cruel than Nero who, according to Tacitus, ordered the 
murder, but averted his eyes. Under a tyrant so craftily 
sanguinary, and so anxious to diminish the horror of his 
crimes by some semblance of justice and mercy, the informers 
who had been discouraged by the severity w'ith which Ves- 
pasian and Titus pursued them, could not fail to reappear in 
great number and to act their infamous part in freedom and 
security. 

These men became the instruments of Domitian’s power 
and the means of keeping Rome in a condition of incessant 
terror. The Senate, the army, the priesthood and the magis- 
tracy, all classes of society were infested with these wretches. 
Regulus, whom we have seen at work, was the most dangerous 
and the most celebrated among them. 

. Domitian’s insatiable thirst for gold does not seem to have 
been a natural inclination, but to have grown gradually from 
the necessity of meeting the extraordinary expenses occasioned 
by his taste for ruinous exhibitions, his mania for building 
and the prodigious festivals with which he frequently enter- 
tained his people. Some conception may be formed of the 
treasures wasted for the gratification of his capricious fancies, 
from the fact that the gilt work alone which entered in the 
reconstruction of the capitol cost over twelve thousand talents 
or more than seven millions dollars. His palace was of such 
vast dimensions that he received there an incredible multitude 
of citizens, to whom he gave the most magnificent entertain- 
ment. In the games of the circus he had the amphitheatre 
turned into a veritable lake on which appeared such a large 
number of vessels, that a mock naval-fight was given by two 
complete fleets. Another time, he employed several legions 
in planting into the arena full grown trees procured from the 
neighboring forests, in order to give the people the pleasure 


178 


AURELIA; OR, 


of hunting an immense number of wild beasts collected at 
great expense from different countries, and let loose in the 
Maximus Circus. 

To pay for these expensive follies, he resorted to the most 
tyrannical exactions and the most violent measures. But he 
was as prudent in his spoliations as in his other crimes. 

The informers besieged the death-bed of wealthy citizens 
to win their liberality in favor of the Emperor, and if they 
failed in this task, the vague allegation of some deed or word 
construed as offensive to the majesty of the prince, was suffi- 
cient ground for the fiscal to confiscate the most considerable 
estates. 

Agricola, the father-in-law of Tacitus, was obliged, like 
many others, to gratify Domitian’s cupidity ; in order to 
protect the interests of his family, he made the Emperor 
the co-heir of his wife and daughter. During the last hours 
of this great man, messengers passing from his house to the 
palace of the Emperor, kept the latter advised of the most 
minute circumstance that transpired, so great was Domitian’s 
fear that this important legacy would escape him ! It is even 
suspected that he hastened the consummation of his wishes by 
giving poison to this virtuous citizen. 

We have said nothing of Domitian’s infamous debauchery 
which equalled the most monstrous inventions of his prede- 
cessors, nor of his religious follies which excelled their 
greatest acts of madness ; neither have we described his 
incredible acts of vanity, nor related how he made himself 
the object of universal hatred. 

He lived by himself, in his house, as in a fortress, holding 
no communication with his family — whom he hated and always 
held in great dread. When he raised the sons of Flavius 
Clemens to the dignity of Caesars, it was more with a view 
to self-protection than to favor their elevation. Continually 
exposed to conspiracies, he wished by this means to discourage 
revolutionary attempts and show their uselessness, in presence 
of successors appointed before-hand, and who, he thought, 
would prove an invincible obstacle to the ambitious schemes 
of other pretenders. But the facility with which he after- 
wards sacrificed all his relations, and the remorseless fury by 
which he won the surname of “Butcher of his kindred,” 
prove that the ties of blood had no power over his soul — it 
was inaccessible to the most natural sentiments. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


179 


He had some traits of resemblance with the most odious of 
the princes who preceded him. Like Tiberius, he was 
wicked and sullen ; like the imbecile Claudius, he was weak 
and irresolute, although superior to him in intellect ; and he 
was as cruel, and more vain, perhaps, than Nero, of hateful 
memory. Although Juvenal has styled him Nero-the- 
Bald,^’ many of the old writers were struck by the analogy 
existing between his characteristic vices and habits, and those 
of Tiberius. He, himself seems to have understood that in 
the close study of that emperor’s acts, he would find the 
teachings best adapted to his own nature ; and, although he 
had a taste for books and literature, as proved by his efibrts to 
endow Rome with fine libraries and with copies of the best 
works from Alexandria and elsewhere, he seldom read any- 
thing but the “Memoirs of Tiberius,” endeavoring always 
to shape his conduct and his style according to those detestable 
traditions. 

Physically, Domitian was tall, and his demeanor affectedly 
modest. His features had something idiotic, although his 
eyes were remarkably large. His form had been graceful, 
and his appearance comely, in his youth, but his premature 
baldness and obesity had left little of this comeliness of face 
or gracefulness of outline. 

His skill with the bow was extraordinary. The Parthians 
and Scythians, so vaunted by ancient writers ; the famous 
Aster, whose arrow pierced Phillip of Macedon’s right eye ; 
William Tell, who acquired so much renown in modern times 
for having shot an apple off his little son’s head, would 
have been deemed but inferior archers along side of Domi- 
tian. When shooting wild beasts in his retreat at Mount 
Albinus, he would sometimes say to his companions : “ See, 
I shall stick two arrows in that animal’s head, in guise of 
horns.” And he never failed to do it. At other times a 
young lad would stand off at a considerable distance and hold 
up his hand with the fingers spread open, and Domitian would 
speed arrow after arrow through the narrow space without as 
much as grazing the skin of the fingers. 

But he soon tired of innocent diversion ; his cruelty might 
sleep but it never died. Since his return to Rome, Domitian 
had amused himself in perpetrating certain jokes, which were 
not without significance, as indicating his gloomy train of 
thoughts. We shall cite an instance. 


180 


AURELIA; OR, 


He sent invitations to the principal senators and knights to 
dine with him on a certain day. As a matter of course, all 
came, but the smile vanished from their lips when they entered 
the banquet hall : the floor, the ceiling, the walls, everything 
about the room was draped in black. For each guest there 
was a small sepulchral column bearing his name, and sup- 
porting a funeral lamp, whose feeble rays dimly lighted this 
gloomy scene. A number of young slaves, completely nude 
but blackened from head to foot, personated the infernal 
shades. After performing lugubrious and frightful dances, 
they placed dishes before the guests. These dishes were such 
as it was customary to offer the dead in the funeral ceremonies. 

The company, overwhelmed by terror, remained speechless. 
Homitian alone spoke, but it was to entertain his guests with 
tragical narratives and ghost stories. Every one thought 
their last hour had come, and the dishes remained untouched. 
Having well enjoyed their terror, Homitian committed his 
guests to the care of strange slaves who carried them home in 
mourning litters. 

Those poor people had hardly recovered from their stupor 
when Homitian’s messengers were announced. Was it the 
death-warrant? No ; Homitian sent to each guest the dishes 
which had been placed before him, the sepulchral column 
bearing his name, and the slave who had waited on him. 
But dishes and columns had been scrubbed, and were found 
to be silver plate of admirable workmanship ; the slaves had 
taken a bath, and were now handsome boys clad in rich 
garments. 

Notwithstanding this happy termination, the joke was little 
^lished, and was long remembered by the victims. 

' Two persons only were satisfied. These were Homitian 
and Regulus. 

Homitian was delighted, because he had terribly frightened 
his courtiers ; Regulus, because he thought the Emperor was 
getting roused from his lethargy and would soon require his 
services. 

He thought right. A few days after this, he received a 
message from the Emperor, commanding his presence at the 
Palatine. 

Homitian awaited his coming in one of the galleries of this 
extensive mansion ; but, becoming impatient, at the informer’s 


THE JEWS OF CATENA GATE 


181 


delay, he called for his bow and arrows, and stepped into the 
garden. Soon after, an attendant announced that Marcus 
Regulus had arrived : 

Let him come here,” replied Domitian. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE LUMINOUS GALLERY. 

W HEN Domitian stepped into the garden with his bow and 
arrows, he had also called in a loud voice : 

‘ ‘ Hirsutus ! Hirsutus !” 

At this name, a boy, or rather a young man, for he was 
eighteen years old, came out suddenly from behind a tree, 
and approached the Emperor. 

“Hirsutus,” said Domitian, “go and stand yonder, I 
need a little recreation.” 

‘ ‘ Are you going to hurt me again ?” replied Hirsutus, 
without attempting to disguise his unwillingness, and speaking 
in a familiar tone which few dared use with Domitian. 

“Oh!” remarked the Emperor; “do you still think of 
the little scratch you got the other day ’? It is the first time 
that such a thing happens to me I” 

“ You call this a scratch?” replied Hirsutus, with a bitter 
smile. 

And he held up his hand, the middle finger of which was 
fearfully torn, the flesh having been cut to the bone. 

“What my son,” remarked Domitian, with soiiiething like 
compassion in his voice ; “are you not yet cured? Helio- 
dorus, my physician, said it would be nothing. Why did you 
not use the salve sent by Eutrapeles ? . . . Go,” continued 
Domitian, resuming his walk, “go, you will hold up tho 
other hand.” 

Hirsutus made no reply. He preceded the Emperor towards 
the hippodrome But who could have studied the poor lad’s 
face, would have read there a strange desire to revenge him- 
self on the man who daily placed his life in danger for mere 
amusement. 

16 


182 


AURELIA; OR, 


Domitian, busy with selecting his arrows and examining 
his bow, had not remarked this. 

Hirsutus was a poor, misshapen creature. His pear-shaped 
head was covered with thiu, wiry hair, short and hard like 
the hair of a modern clothes-brush. He owed his name to 
this peculiarity. This pointed head was connected by a very 
short neck to an extraordinarily large body ; his arms were 
long and thin, and his legs crooked and dragging, making 
him altogether one of the most hideous freaks of nature. 
But a strange light flashed from his eyes, and a lively intel- 
ligence animated this uncouth mass which was not unlike the 
bust of some divinity of the ancient Latium. 

Whence came this singular being ? Where was he born ? 
Nobody about the imperial court, and not evenDomitian him- 
self, could have answered these questions. The boy had been 
brought by a necromancer named Ascletarion, who came to 
Borne occasionally, and in whom Bomitian had the most 
superstitious confidence, although he subsequently had him 
put to death, for saying that he knew when the Emperor 
would die. 

Hirsutus hardly ever left his master. Domitian consulted 
him on the most important occasions, and more than once the 
appointments to the first offices of the empire depended upon 
the capricious whim of this hideous creature. But all this, 
as we have seen, did not prevent the Emperor from making 
him his plaything and exposing his life daily. Hirsutus 
hated Domitian mortally, but he concealed this feeling care- 
fully in the hope that an occasion would present itself to 
satisfy it. 

When Marcus Begulus arrived near the emperor, he found 
him engaged in shooting his arrows between the poor lad’s 
fingers. Domitian, at first, paid little attention to the informer 
who waited respectfully until he should be spoken to ; and 
when he addressed him, at last, it was merely to call his 
attention to some skilful shot, and the looks he threw him were 
anything but satisfied. Yet, Begulus felt no uneasiness at 
the coldness of this reception. He was calm, and the vague 
smile which played on his lips expressed great confidence. 

Suddenly, Hirsutus uttered a cry of pain ; an arrow had 
pierced his hand. The poor fellow ran about, howling with 
mingled pain and rage, and trying vainly to pull the shaft 
from his wound. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


183 


* ‘ By ^linerva !” exclaimed Domitian, without the least 
show of compassion for his favorite’s sufferings, “ Regulus, 
you are the cause of this awkwardness ! You distracted my 
attention I . . . But let us drop this,” he continued, throwing 
aside his bow and arrows. “Come in my gallery, I wish 
to speak to you about some serious matters.” 

But we must describe the curious gallery into which 
Begulus followed Domitian, ere we proceed to relate their 
conversation. 

During the reign of Nero, a singular stone was discovered 
in the quarries of Cappadocia which has been carefully 
described by Pliny-the-Elder in his Natural History. This 
stone, as hard as marble, was at the same time transparent, 
or rather luminous. It was, for this reason, Gdlledi phengyte, 
from the Greek name for light. Pliny also relates that Nero 
had a temple built with these stones, and the light penetrated 
into the interior, as though there had been no walls. 

Notwithstanding its hardness, this stone could be split in 
thin layers, like slate ; and the wealthy citizens subsequently 
used these transparent panes in their windows. For glass, 
although known to the Homans and used to manufacture 
vessels of various shapes, had not yet been made into panes. 

Domitian wished, like Nero, to turn to account this precious 
discovery, but for his own benefit — not in honor of the gods. 
In order that no one should approach him unseen when he 
was alone, he had caused a wide gallery to be constructed 
with these luminous stones, in the interior of his immense 
palace, and it was his favorite resort when he did not walk in 
the gardens. It was in this gallery he amused himself with 
killing flies, when tired of shooting arrows between the 
fingers of the unfortunate Hirsutus. 

Vibius Crispus never approached this part of the palace. 
He feared that Domitian might remember his joke about the 
flies. 

Domitian, having reached the centre of the gallery, looked 
around to see that nobody was near and casting an angry look 
on the informer, said : 

“ You are very awkward! Begulus.” 

“ How is that? my lord,” asked the informer respectfully, 
but with singular assurance. 

“Bead,” simply remarked Domitian, handing him a sheet 
of papyrus, which he drew from under his purple robe. 


184 


AURELIA; OR, 


The informer looked triumphant. 

“ It is a proclamation, my lord,” he replied, without taking 
the document. “I need not read it. . . . I am already 
acquainted with its contents. . . . Here is a similar copy 1” 

And the informer handed Domitian another sheet of 
papyrus. 

‘ ‘ A proclamation ! . .You said a proclamation ? . . . ” 
repeated Domitian with unfeigned surprise. But this does 
not have the appearance of one 1” 

“ My lord, the word may not he very exact. But when 
one knows the object of this writing, one may^ I should think, 
style it a proclamation, for it aims at preparing the mind of 
the people.” 

“Prepare it to what?” asked Domitian, with visible 
anxiety. 

“ To rebellion and a change of reign,” replied Begulus, 
bluntly. 

Domitian bounded like a wild beast wounded by the hunter’s 
shaft. 

“ By Minerva !” he cried, with concentrated rage; “can 
it be true ! Is such the aim of all those covert allusions ? 
Oh I they shall not succeed I and I will make them repent of 
their audacity J . . . But who is the author?” he asked, 
fixing his blood-shot eyes on Begulus. 

“ The author of this impious project and of these libels,” 
replied the informer, is Lucius Antonius, the general corn- 
manding the army of Germania, who wants to have himself 
proclaimed emperor — he, or another, it matters little. Here 
is, at all events, another document of far greater significance, 
which does not leave the least doubt as to his projects.” 

Domitian jerked the manuscript from the hands of Begulus, 
and proceeded to read it with eager curiosity. In this 
document, as in the other one, the writer reminded the people 
of Domitian’s many crimes ; he revealed the true motive of 
Lucius Metellus’ murder, and alluded sneeringly to the low 
birth of the man who had had the boldness to style himself a 
god and to have his statue worshipped in the capitol ; he 
insulted Domitian’s recently acquired glory, by stating that 
he had been shamefully beaten by the Dacians and Marco- 
mans, and, following the precedent established by himself in 
a -previous expedition, had gotten up the evidences of an 


TUB JEWi OF OAF ENA CATE. 


ISO 


imaginary victory Iby purchasing a large number of slaves and 
parading them as prisoners of war, after having their hair 
and their garments arranged according to the fashion of the 
people he claimed to have conquered. Finally, the writer 
ended with an energetic appeal to the Roman people, whom 
he called upon to aid and sustain the effort soon to be made 
for the tyrant’s overthrow by a numerous army, which he 
announced as ready to march on Rome to deliver her from 
the yoke of the odious Domitian. 

In order to understand the full import of this proclamation 
and the rage it must have excited in Domitian, it must be 
known that the peace which ended the war against Decebalus 
had been purchased at the cost of Roman honor. Owing to 
Domitian’s mismanagement, his expedition undertaken to 
avenge Oppius Sabinus and Cornelius Fuscus, whose legions 
had been cut to pieces by Decebalus and Duras, the two Dacian 
kings, aided by the brave Dogys, brother of Decebalus, would 
have ended in a fearful disaster, had he not averted it by 
signing an ignominious treaty. The Emperor, nevertheless, 
had the impudence of soliciting the glory of a triumphal 
reception, and the Senate gave its cowardly assent. 

The first proclamation contained only injurious revelations, 
the true import of which was more fully developed in the 
second. And yet, what had most deeply wounded Domitian’s 
vanity were the particulars concerning his humble origin and 
of the murder and incendiarism committed in order to conceal 
or rather wipe out the proofs of this origin. Hence his anger 
against Marcus Regulus whom he had intrusted with the 
management of this already old affair — either the secrecy or 
the ability of the accomplices must have been at fault, since 
the accusation was now trumped up so boldly. 

But the Emperor foresaw the coming of grave events ; and 
his resentment against the informer melted before the greater 
anger which darkened his brow as he read the proofs of his 
enemies’ audacity. 

“ How is it,” he asked, after a little reflection, and showing 
the first proclamation of which he had a copy; “that you 
have this libel in your possession ? Palfurius, who handed 
it to me this morning, assured me that no other copy 
existed ?” , 

“ Palfurius must be very skilful!” said Regulus with a 
16 * 


186 


AURELIA; OR, 


ainile of contempt. ‘ ‘ For the last two days this proclama- 
tion has been posted on all the walls in Rome !’^ 

“ Indeed!” cried Domitian, with mingled rage and terror. 
‘ ' And is this other one also publicly posted ?” he asked, 
showing the second document brought by Regulus. 

“ No, my lord, it has not yet been posted, but it will be by 
to-morrow,” replied Regulus. 

“ To-morrow !” repeated Domitian with the same terror. 

“Yes, to-morrow, my lord, unless the package of copies 
just introduced into Rome, is immediately seized!” 

“Immediately! Immediately!” cried Domitian, with a 
madman’s fury. “ And let the man who received it be put 
to death ! . . . Hallo, guards ! . . . ” 

But he stopped, seeing Regulus bare his bosom and kneel 
before him. 

“What arc you doing ?” the Emperor asked with surprise. 

“ I bare my throat to my master’s sword,” replied the 
hypocrite humbly. ‘ ‘ For the package of proclamations is at 
my house !” 

“ Oh !” exclaimed Domitian. 

“ Unless,” continued Regulus, “ the Emperor should think 
that his miserable slave has done right in preventing them 
from falling into other hands.” 

“By Minerva! Regulus, you are a cunning fellow!” 
exclaimed Domitian. “This is the way to serve one’s 
master! But may the Fates cut my thread of life, if I can 
guess how you managed to obtain possession of these docu- 
ments.” 

“ In a very simple way, my lord, ... I have bought the 
man to whom they were sent. Unfortunately I only found 
him out after the first proclamation had been posted, for it 
was only then I suspected that there existed a depositary.” 

“ Who is this man ?” asked Domitian. 

“One Misitius, an obscure creature. He lives not far 
from the two temples of Isis and Serapis. I learned what 
was going on from the Archigallus, who gets his hair dressed 
at Eutrapeles’ . This Misitius is certainly in communication 
with Lucius Antonius, for he goes for the packages to an 
appointed place, on the Flaminia way. These packages, well 
wrapped in heavy papyrus, are brought from Germany by a 
eourier. They are delivered to Misitius at midnight, near 
the Garden hill.” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


187 


“ But this man will surely reveal the names of Antonius’ 
accomplices,” remarked Bomitian, interrupting Begulus. 

“ I intend that he shall, my lord,” replied the informer, 
“ although I do not necessarily need his assistance to procure 
a list of the names of the conspirators, for I have other 
means. . . . But, at all events, I shall make some use of 
him.” 

“ What do you mean?” asked the Emperor, with lively 
curiosity. 

“ Bead this, my lord,” replied Begulus, solemnly. “This 
letter was found among the libels.” 

Bomitian had no sooner cast his eyes on the document than 
he gave a start of surprise. After reading it, he remained 
plunged in astonishment, making no effort to conceal his im- 
pressions. 

The letter was addressed by Metellus Ccler to the G-rand- 
Yestal Cornelia, and read as follows : 

“Dear Cornelia, — In a few days you will hear a good deal about 
Lucius Antonius, and it will probably be stated that he intends to 
have himself proclaimed emperor. Do not believe this, but assure our 
friends of his real designs, with which I am perfectly acquainted. 
Lucius is assembling sufficient forces to overthrow the odious tyrant, 
Domitian ; but he is too devoted to Flavius Clemens to think of wear- 
ing the crown which properly belongs to the two young Cfesars whose 
names are popular in Rome. His intention is, therefore, to proclaim 
them as soon as his legions will be ready to march. 

“ Dear soul of my life, I am still buried in my retreat where, without 
taking any part in this enterprise, I make vows for its success. 

“ What consequences must result for us from this great event! First 
the happiness of seeing each other freely! And soon, doubtless, the 
greater bliss of being united for ever 1 . . . For under two Christian 
emperors, what prejudices, what vain omens could prevent us from 
being united.’ ’ 

“ What does this mean? Two Christian Emperors, . . ” 
asked Bomitian, when he had finished reading this letter, the 
meaning of which, in great part, he did not understand. 

“My lord,” said Begulus, purposely selecting an indirect 
way to answer the question, “ have you ever made the 
‘Venus’ throw’ when playing the game of tesserm ?” 

“"No,” said Bomitian, who could not see the drift of this 
question, “though I have oftentimes made the ‘Bog’s 
throw.’ ” * 


♦The game of tesseras was played with three ivory dice similar to onrs. 
The player who threw the three sixes, made the Venun' throw and W( * • ^ 

-o-mp. The three aces were called tVio 


188 


AURELIA^ OR, 


“ Well, my lord, to-day, Fortune lias prepared for you the 
finest Venus’ throw that a player has ever ipade.” 

“ How is that?” 

“ Did 3 "Ou not charge me, my lord, to surprise the Grrand- 
Yestal and Metellus Celer ? ...” 

“ I did,” said Domitian, “'hut what of it?” 

“Well, my lord, in this letter you have the means to 
punish them ! . . . And did you not commission me , besides,” 
added the informer, “ to find out the projects of the Chris- 
tians ? ... You know them now !” 

“What! Vespasian and Domitian, my grand-nephews, 
could be the two Christian emperors alluded to in Metellus 
Celer’ s letter ? . . . ” 

“Yes, my lord, and I will add that Flavius Clemens, 
the two Flavia Domitillas, all your relations in fact, are 
Christians and conspire to overthrow you.” 

“ Oh 1” cried Domitian, and his accent betrayed his terror, 
and still more his profound astonishment at this sudden dis- 
covery, “ they are all Christians ! all . . . even to my niece 
Aurelia? ...” 

“ No, my lord, the divine Aurelia has so far resisted all 
the entreaties of your cousin, Flavia Domitilla, she who has 
spread the poison of that new doctrine in your family, but 
unless something is done, the divine Aurelia will succumb 
also. ...” 

The informer paused, for the Emperor no longer listened 
to him. 

Domitian, in prey to visible excitement, was pacing slowly 
the marble floor of the gallery. If we have succeeded in 
describing this tyrant’s character as we have found it in 
history, the reader will easily imagine the strange perplexity 
in which he was thrown by the startling facts so suddenly 
revealed by Regulus. 

He felt that he was hated, and the revolt of Lucius An- 
tonins might arouse Dome and cause it to rebel against his 
authority. 

On the other hand, how would he deal with the Christians, 
whose mysterious power frightened him, and who, besides, 
would count on such formidable adversaries in his own family. 

Would he bathe in their blood ? Nero had done so, and the 
Christians had become more numerous, notwithstanding his 
executions, or perhaps in consequence of them. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


189 


Would it not be necessary, however, to strike at this sect, 
commencing with his own relations ? But would he not then 
inspire such universal horror that his overthrow would become 
inevitable ? 

Then, the voices of the future, the predictions already 
heard, whispered in his ear that the Christians would become 
the masters of the world, and the race of David would control 
the empire. 

Were the prophecies to be realized, which had so long 
occupied the public mind? 

“Ohl” thought Domitian, in his superstitious terror, 
“ those sons of David’s are in my power ! It is fifteen days 
since Fronto brought them to Borne ... It is time I should 
interrogate them . . . To-morrow I shall have them brought 
in the presence of all my court . . . I shall see whether they 
have accomplices . . . Let the guilty ones tremble, whoever 
they may be !” 

We need not say that Flavius Clemens, the two young 
Caesars and all their family had nothing to do with the rebellion 
planned by Lucius Antonins. But it was true that the latter 
as Metellus Celer’s letter led one to suppose, strengthened 
himself by the use of their names, which were exceedingly 
popular, because of their near relationship with Vespasian 
and Titus. It was also true that the general of the army of 
Germany had no other intention in marching upon Borne, 
than to overthrow Domitian and put his nephews in his place, 
for the people looked with pleasure upon the young Caesars 
as the heirs of the empire. 

But Begulus, who knew very little concerning the conspir- 
acy of which Antonious was the head, had nevertheless seized 
with eagerness this opportunity to resume the plotting inter- 
rupted by Cecilia’s release and Parmenon’s death, and, as we 
have seen, in informing the Emperor that his relations were 
Christians, he had taken care to represent them as con- 
spirators. 

We shall show directly what Domitian meant by those sons 
of David whom he held in his power, and proposed to inter- 
rogate in presence of his court. 

“Are you certain,” asked the Emperor, stopping abruptly 
before Begulus, ‘ ‘ of all you are telling me ? How did you 
get this information ? You will readily understand the grave 


lOO 


AURELIA; OR, 


character of these revelations, and how necessary it is that I 
should he informed of the smallest circumstances connected 
with them.” 

“ My lord,” said Regulus, “ permit me to relate all that 
has taken place during your absence, and what I have done 
to obey the instructions you had left me.” 

At this juncture a singular and barely perceptible noise 
reached the ears of the two men, who turned quickly to see 
if any one was spying their secrets. But the wide gallery 
was deserted and silent, and the luminous stones reflected no 
other image than those of the Emperor and Regulus. 

“ Did you hear, Regulus,” said Domitian with uneasiness, 
and pointing to a colossal statue of Minerva, placed in the 
centre of the gallery on a bronze pedestal. “ It seemed to 
me the noise came from that direction . . .” 

“Let us verify the fact, my lord,” said Regulus, “the 
same noise attracted my attention.” 

The Emperor and the informer walked around the statue, 
but saw no one. 

“ It is nothing, my lord,” remarked Regulus, “ the great 
weight of this statue causing its base to settle in the soil, has 
probably occasioned the slight noise we heard.” 

“ Very likely; well, Regulus, begin your narrative, I am 
anxious to know all.” 

The informer’s long narrative must have awakened a pow- 
erful interest in Domitian, for he listened to it with much 
attention ; but the reader being already acquainted with the 
events that formed its substance, we deem it unnecessary to 
repeat it. 

“However,” said Regulus after relating his disappoint- 
ments, “I did not lose courage, and the gods have permitted 
that I should again, and by other means, obtain possession of 
all those secrets, so important to my master’s safety, and the 
proof of which I have hastened to bring to his knowledge.” 

The informer, however, was not very explicit in the second 
part of his narrative ; he did not wish to say by what means 
he had obtained possession of the documents which he had 
brought to the Emperor. He merely repeated that he had 
corrupted Misitius, whose acquaintance he had made through 
the Archigallus. Having finished his story, he asked tbe 
Emperor what he thought of all this. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


191 


‘ ‘ It requires reflection,” replied Domitian. I shall again 

have need of your zealous services,” he added, putting his 
hand familiarly on the informer’s shoulder. Regulus blushed 
with pleasure at this caressing gesture accompanied hy a 
glance which prc.mised future favor as the reward of future 
infamy. 

“ Do you know,” remarked Domitian after a short pause^ 
“ that this cousin of mine, Flavia Domitilla, is a veritable 
bane in the family. She it is who corrupted all my other 
relations. I see it. . . . I want to begin with her,” he 
added, with a dark smile, “ what shall I do with her ?” 

“ Speak, my lord, I shall obey,” replied Kegulus, bowing 
low. 

“We shall think of it,” growled Domitian. “As for 
that young beau, Metellus Celer and his Vestal ...” 

“ Will the Emperor permit me to give my advice?” asked 
Regulus. 

“Speak,” said Domitian. 

‘ ‘ It would be perhaps better to wait the further develop- 
ment of events,” said the informer. “I have placed a man 
devoted to me near Metellus Celer, and I am sure that we 
can seize the latter in the retreat which he thinks so secure, 
whenever circumstances will require it. But if he is, as his 
letter would lead us to believe, connected with this conspiracy 
of Antonins, does not the Emperor see what precious informa- 
tion may be obtained from this source ?” 

‘ ‘ You are right, Regulus, let us wait ! . . . And as for 
the Flavius family ... let us wait also. When they will 
have full}’’ betrayed themselves, my severity will seem natural 
and legitimate. . . Moreover, to-morrow all these questions 
will have made a greaVstep. Regulus, do not fail to be 
here to-morrow. . . You will be able to observe some 
curious and significant things. . . . Go, Regulus, I am 
satisfied with your zeal. . . Leave all these documents with 
me.” 

The informer handed the various packages to the Emperor, 
who placed them on a tripod near Minerva’s statue, and 
accompanied Regulus to give him further instructions. They 
walked out of the gallery into another apartment, where they 
remained in conversation a little longer. 

No sooner had Domitian and Regulus left the phengite 


192 


AURELIA; OR, 


gallery than the bronze base of Minerva’s statue opened 
noiselessly ; and Hirsutus springing forth, seized the papers 
and swiftly disappeared with them in his hiding place. The 
secret panel fell back to its place, and the most expert eye 
could not have detected its existence. 

Silence and solitude reigned in the immense gallery w^hen 
the Emperor returned. 

He could not restrain an exclamation of surprise upon reach- 
ing the tripod and missing the papers he had so recently put 
there. Laying his hand mechanically on the gilded surface, 
he felt something warm and damp that made him recoil with 
terror. His fingers were stained with blood ! 

Domitian cried aloud and the echoes of the luminous gal- 
lery repeated the cry. The guards rushed in thinking the 
Emperor had called for help. 

They found him gazing with superstitious terror on Miner- 
va’s statue. 

“Go away! retire!” cried Domitian angrily, for he did 
not wish others to witness his anguish 

When he was again alone, he examined the statue care- 
fully, feeling the joints of the bronze base with his fingers. 
But his search was fruitless ; he saw nothing but a compact 
mass of metal. 

“This is strange,” he muttered, passing his hand on his 
brow moist with the cold sweat of fear. “To-morrow, this 
statue shall be pulled down ...” 


In a book store on the Sacred Way, a hundred men were 
busy copying, by the light of numerous lamps, a document 
which a stranger had just brought in. 

This document was the second proclamation of Antonins, 
so mysteriously stolen from Domitian by the boy Hirsutus, 
and which, it will be remembered, contained an energetic 
appeal to arms. 

Next day, the walls of Home were covered with these 
copies, and the Pretorians had to use force to disperse the 
threatening crowds assembled near them, and from which 
were heard the most outrageous and significant curses against 
Domitian. 


THE JEWS OF CAP EH A GATE. 


193 


CHAPTER IV. 

Minerva’s statue. 

D OMITIAN, frightened by the strange adventure of 
Minerva’s statue and the mysterious disappearance of the 
documents he had intended to turn to such good account, passed 
a restless night. Suetonius relates that during the few 
moments of sleep which the Emperor enjoyed, a dream 
brought him the most frightful omens. 

He saw Minerva, the goddess whom he honored specially 
with a superstitious worship, step slowly from her pedestal, 
leave the gallery consecrated to her name, and approach, with 
desolate attitude, the couch where he lay trembling. 

But it was no longer the armed goddess which had sprang 
from the brain of Jupiter, the King of Olympus. She had 
doffed her warlike vestments and resembled now a young 
maiden who has been touched by the cold and mortal hand 
of the Parcae. Her shining helmet, her sliiehl, her armor 
and lance, all these symbols of her invincible power had van- 
ished, as if she had succumbed to the superior strength of an 
adversary, and he had despoiled her and made a trophy of her 
arms. 

During a few minutes^ Domitian contemplated her in 
silence, the cold sweat pearling on his brow. The goddess, 
erect and her hands joined in Supplication, gazed upon him 
sadly, without moving her lips, and motionless like a brown 
statue weeping upon a tomb. The inert mass had been ani- 
mated for a few moments, by a prodigy, and then, had 
resumed the coldness and rigidity of bronze. 

At last, by another prodigy, her arm was raised slowly 
towards the Emperor ; her eyes moved in their orbits ; her 
lips parted, and in a harsh voice that x-ang like the sound of 
a trumpet, she cried three times : 

“ Domitian ! Domitian ! Domitian !” 

Then lowering her voice, she added sadly : 

‘‘ I can no longer protect thee ! . . . A more powerful 
god has broken my weapons ! . . . J upiter himself could not 
save his daughter ! . . 

17 


194 


AURELIA; OR, 


The Emperor bounding on his bed, awoke suddenly, and 
screamed so loudly, that his guards who watched in the 
adjoining room, rushed in to protect him. 

Domitian was moving his arms wildly, as if to drive away 
some fearful vision, and repeating in a voice full of anguish : 

‘ ‘ Save me ! save me ! . . . Help Minerva ! . . . she is 
there ! . . . there ! . . . Do you see her ? . . . She 
abandons me ! . . 

But no other eye could discover that which Domitian’s 
gaze followed with increasing anxiety in this vast room scarcely 
lighted by a single lamp, nor that which his trembling hand 
pointed at in the vacant gloom. 

At early dawn, when llegulus entered the Emperor’s room, 
he found Domitian kneeling by his bedside, his hands raised 
to heaven. 

llegulus had read the mysterious proclamation posted on 
the walls of Rome, during the night, and not understanding 
how these documents, which he held safe at home, could have 
been made public, he had hastened to the palace to have this 
strange fact explained, and, at all events, to inform the 
Emperor of it. But on finding Domitian in this state of com- 
plete prostration, caused by the events of that fearful night, 
he foresaw some circumstance still more fatal than those which 
already caused his anxiety ; and extending his hand to the 
Emperor, he exclaimed : 

“In the name of the gods, my lord, what is the matter 
with you, and what has happened?” 

Domitian raised his vacant and tearful eyes upon the 
informer, and gathering a little courage from his presence, 
wiped away the cold sweat from his brow, and murmured 
hoarsely : 

“ Fearful omens ! Horrible night I . . 

“My lord,” said Regulus, who, seeing his master over- 
whelmed by a terror which he could not understand, sought 
to divert his attention by an important disclosure, “ the docu- 
ment I gave you yesterday, and of which I alone possess the 
copy, has been posted in Rome last night. How did this 
happen ?” 

“ This is as it should be,” replied Domitian, showing no 
astonishment; “ Minerva, who abandons me, has taken these 
documents and has doubtless caused them to be distributed in 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


19o 


Rome. . . I am lost, Regulus,” cried the tyrant with sud- 
den fierceness, “ the gods have conspired against me! they 
want my death ! . . . Let their bolts strike me if they 
wish !” he added in a tone of despair, and hiding his face in 
his hands. 

Triumphing at last of his own weakness and returning 
gradually to the angry mood, Domitian narrated to Regulus, 
with many interruptions, what had occurred since their last 
interview. 

Those who are familiar with the ancient writers, know how 
strangely superstitious the Romans were, and the facility 
with which they accepted the most incredible prodigies. 
Regulus was particularly addicted to these superstitious fears, 
and he was often known to shed the blood of victims to con- 
jure the effects of evil omens and propitiate the anger of the 
gods. We may then imagine the impressions left in his soul 
by the Emperor’s narrative, so eloquently strengthened by 
the mysterious removal of the papers, the apparition of 
Minerva, and the unaccountable divulgation of Lucius Anto- 
nius’ proclamation. 

But who was this god, more powerful than Minerva, greater 
even than Jupiter, since the King of Olympus could not pro- 
tect his daughter against his power ? 

Domitian and Regulus, moved by the same presentiment, 
remembering the rumors so long circulated in Rome, thought 
of the G-od of the Christians, and without communicating to 
each other this thought, betook themselves to reflect that it 
would not be wise to attack Him at this time. Would He not 
come to the assistance of his worshippers if they were threat- 
ened ? And since He had had the power to overthrow 
Minerva, could it be hoped that He would spare the Emperor ? 

Domitian expressed this secret resolve of his frightened 
heart when, after a long pause, he said to Regulus : 

“ It is to-day I must see those sons of David, announced 
to Rome by the Fates. . . It will be, if I believe certain 
secret warnings, the end of these mysterious events . . . the 
beginning of some hope or the confirmation of all my fears . . . 
We must beware of this unseen power which nobody knows 
and which reveals itself by such prodigies !” 

Whilst conversing in this manner, the Emperor and Regulus 
were walking slowly through the vast apartments of the 


196 


AURELIA; OR, 


Palatine-House. They reached the hall where they had 
parted the day before, and which was contiguous to the lumi- 
nous gallery in which stood this statue of Minerva^ the cause 
of so many terrors. 

Since the apparition that had troubled his sleep, Domitian 
bad not dared to enter the gallery; but he felt a lively curi- 
osity to know what had become of the statue ; whether it had 
left its pedestal forever; or, if it had resumed its place, 
whether it was still despoiled of its armor, as he had seen 
her during the night. 

Domitian, still under the impression of his terror, would 
not have thought of going alone into the fatal gallery, but 
encouraged by the presence of Regulus, he determined to 
verify the facts immediately. Pale and trembling, they 
entered together the gallery of phengite stones. 

The goddess was standing as usual on her bronze pedestal. 
The rays of the rising sun playing on her richly gilded hel- 
met, her shield and armor, surrounded her with a flood of 
light ; her lance was still grasped in her motionless hand. In 
other words, nothing was changed in the statue which Domi- 
tian and Regulus examined with anxious care. Not daring 
to lay their hands on it, lest an avenging flame should burst 
forth to strike them, yet they looked closely at the faintest 
lineaments of the elaborate carving of the pedestal, as if they 
had suspected the truth ; but the bronze mass kept its own 
«ecrets, and Domitian and Regulus gave up all hopes of dis- 
covering what the gods doubtless wished should remain an 
impenetrable mystery. 

•‘Come, Regulus,’^ said Domitian, still more discouraged 
after this fruitless search, “we must give up the hope of 
learning anything from this statue. . . By Jupiter! all 
this is strange and incredible 1 . . . If I had not seen the 
goddess move in the darkness, I might perhaps doubt ! . . . 
But there is a terrible and significant reality in these facts. . . 
Well, we shall see. . . Regulus, you must be here punc- 
tually at the seventh hour. That is the time fixed for the 
examination of those sons of David.” 

Regulus bowed profoundly and promised to be at the 
Emperor’s order at the hour appointed. He then hastened to 
take leave of Domitian, for he was anxious to be relieved of 
the restraint he had exercised to conceal, whilst in his master’s 
presence, the great trouble that filled his heart. 


THE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


197 


From the windows of the pahace, the Emperor could hear 
the distant clamor of the excited crowds of citizens who had 
read the proclamation of Lucius Antonius and now gave 
utterance to loud curses and threats against the tyrant ; but 
he could see also his Pretorian guard whose devotion he had 
secured by frequent liberalities, charge the multitude and 
disperse them after covering the street with dead bodies. 

A smile of confidence lighted his face as he withdrew 
into the interior of the palace, murmuring to himself: 

“ By my fortune ! so long as these brave swords are mine, 
I may defy even the linger of the gods !” 

Whilst Domitian is preparing to interrogate the sons of 
David in presence of his court, let us explain how Hirsutus 
could conceal himself in Minerva’s statue, for what object he 
pried into his master’s secrets, and why he had so adroitly 
possessed himself of the pamphlets, letters and proclamations 
which Ptegulus had brought to the Emperor. 

The execration against Domitian for his numerous crimes 
was general in Pome, and several conspiracies had been 
organized for his overthrow, but they had all failed owing 
cither to the weakness of resources, the treachery of some 
member, or the want of boldness in the leaders. Neverthe- 
less, two new conspiracies, in and out of Rome, had been 
recently formed, with hopes of better success. 

The immediate object of both was the same — the over- 
throw of the tyrant. The means of action and the ultimate 
design alone were different. One of these conjurations had 
at its head Lucius Antonius, Oeneralof the army of G-ermany^ 
who relied on his legions, and intended to march on Rome, 
and proclaim the fall of Domitian. 

Little is known about this revolt, which was promptly sup- 
pressed, as we shall sec. The Senate, it is believed, favored 
the plans of Antonius, which were merely to bring about a 
change of reign, by placing the young Caesars, Vespasian 
and Domitianus, his designated successors, on Doniitian’s 
throne. 

This outbreak was about to take place, and yet Domitian 
knew nothing of it. The first news were brought to him 
by Palfurius Sura, whose whole merit was that of having 
torn a copy of the proclamation from the walls of the city, 
to bring it to the Emperor. 

17 * 


198 


AURELIA; OR, 


Regulus had been more fortunate, owing to circumstances 
which will be explained in another chapter. He had man- 
aged to seize the packages of proclamations and to inform 
Homitian of the name of the General who threatened his 
power. But Begulus knew nothing beyond this, and conse- 
quently, the informations brought by him to the Emperor, 
were very incomplete. We need not add that the informer 
was working actively to complete them. 

The object of the second conspiracy was to* place on the 
throne Cocceius Nerva, a respected old man who had twice 
been invested with the Consular dignity, and who was then 
sixty-five years old. This plot had originated during the war 
against the Dacians. It was managed with the greatest pru- 
dence, and the conjurors watched a favorable opportunity 
with patience, avoiding any rash and premature action. They 
intended, as a last resort, if the opportunity to act did not 
present itself, to get rid of Domitian by assassination. 

The Emperor had not the least suspicion of the existence 
of this conspiracy, and neither Regulus nor any other of the 
numerous informer.s who served the master with so much 
zeal had suspected it. 

All that Domitian knew was that Apollonius of Thyana 
had promised the empire to Nerva, after consulting the 
entrails of a murdered child. This horrible sacrifice had 
been consummated in a distant country house, and Domitian 
had been informed of it by one of the disciples of the philoso- 
pher, named Philiscus, whose humane feelings had revolted 
at the abominable act. But Philiscus did not know that 
Apollonius belonged to the Nerva party, and that the human 
sacrifice was intended to inform the conjurors of the issue of 
their undertaking. 

Domitian, however, was much incensed against Apollonius 
of Thyana for having encouraged such hopes. The philoso- 
pher^ fearing the vengeance of the Emperor had carefully 
prepared the means of justifying his course ; he wished to 
obtain an audience from Domitian and to propitiate him with 
presents of rare things brought back from the distant countries 
he had visited. This was why we have seen him, at Pompey’s 
portico, soliciting the intervention of Aurelia and offering the 
young girl the beautiful murrhine vases she had admired. 

Ilirsutus, the hideous abortion, belonged body and soul to 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


199 


botli of the conspiracies. The lively hatred he hore Domitian 
had led him to embrace with joy every project that promised his 
resentment a complete revenge. Both parties had accepted 
eagerly his co-operation, for his position near the prince and 
the great favor he enjoyed, together with his bright intellect 
and the bitter hatred that filled his heart, made him a valuablo 
auxiliary. 

He served the two conspiracies with equal zeal and faith- 
fulness, never betraying to bne the information which con- 
cerned the other ; preserving an inviolable secrecy in all his 
acts, and doing his utmost to preserve the mystery of his 
double participation. So ably did he manage this, that the 
leaders in Germany knew nothing of the insurrection that 
was preparing in Borne, and the Nerva party was taken by 
surprise by the proclamation of Antonius. Little did Hirsutus 
care when revenge would come, provided Domitian was over- 
thrown and he helped to do it. 

Hirsutus having remarked that the luminous gallery was 
the spot where Domitian held his secret interviews and decided 
the most important questions, asked himself whether it would 
not be possible to become an invisible listener. It was no 
easy matter, and yet he succeeded in securing a place of con- 
cealment in the brazen base of Minerva’s statue. It is probable 
that, assisted by the gold of the conspirators, ho had secured 
the services of some skilful workman during Domitian’s 
absence. 

The noise heard by Domitian and Regulus was made by 
Hirsutus entering his post of observation by a subterranean 
passage. The young man had heard the most important part 
of the conversation between the Emperor and the informer. 
We have seen how adroitly he had taken possession of the 
papers. The bloody mark on the tripod was from his 
wounded hand. 

That evening three important things were done by Hirsutus : 

He sent the proclamations to the tavern we have mentioned, 
with orders that they should be copied and posted that same 
night. 

At the same time a courier was dispatched from Borne to 
Germany, bearing the following despatch, written in a secret 
cipher : 

“ Misitius has been bought over. The proclamations were placed in 
the hrnds of the Emperor by Regulus, but a copy has been redeemed. 


200 


AURELIA; OR, 


Your faithful Galbula is having it copied, at this moment, in his tavern, 
and the copies will be posted this very night, despite your agent’s 
treachery. The die is cast. Unfurl your banner and march upon Rome. 
You are expected here. — Vale.” 

Finally, Tongilianus Gurges was disturbed in his sleep by 
some one knocking loudly at his door. The sub-vespillo who 
went to open, found an unknown man who wished to see 
the master immediately, on important business. Gurges 
consented to leave his bed, but his ill-humor was visible ; the 
stranger paid no attention to this, however, but asked him 
abruptly when they were alone : 

“ You are the Grand-Yestal’s friend ?” 

“ Somewhat, citizen,” replied Gurges with impertinent 
fatuity, “ we believe we have that honor,” 

“V/'ell,” said the stranger, “ here is a letter which must be 
handed to her.” 

And he placed into the Vespillo’s hands the letter of 
Metellus Celer to Cornelia, which we have seen Regulus 
bring to Domitian. 

“ You will inform the Grand- Vestal,” added the unknown, 
*‘that the Emperor has had this writing in his possession long 
enough to read it. The Grand- Vestal and her friends must 
act in consequence. Good night.” 

And the stranger made his exit. 

‘ ‘ Here is a singular and not very talkative citizen,” thought 
Gurges. 

But his smiles vanished when his eyes fell on the papyrus 
sheet, and his face looked graver than if he had been attend- 
ing a first-class funeral. 

“ What,” he exclaimed after perusing the dangerous docu- 
ment, “ the Emperor has read this letter as I do now? By 
Venus-Lib itina ! the poor Grand- Vestal is lost ! But this is 
not all ! Here is, if I understand it correctly, the proof of a 
conspiracy in favor of the divine Aurelia’s betrothed ! And 
Domitian knows all this ? . . . Gurges ! Gurges ! these 
great friendships are fatal ! . . . Take care that you do not 
get into trouble!” 

“ Quidquid delirant Reges plectuntur Achivi f' 

Upon this somewhat personal reflection, the Vespibo .1 
into a profound meditation. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


201 


Gurges bad slightly boasted when he represented himself 
as the Grand-Vestal’s friend. He had certainly been of great 
service during the events we have related ; but since Cornelia 
had returned to the Atrium Reglum, he had not even thought 
of crossing the threshold of that asylum which he looked 
upon as prohibited to men. 

His embarrassment was therefore great. How was he to 
discharge the important commission he had accepted ? He 
thought of Cecilia, who was in frequent communication wdth 
the Grand-Vestal; but he promptly discarded the thought, 
for he did not want to involve the young woman in the dan- 
gers that might result from this affair. 

“ This writing burns my fingers,” thought Gurges, “1 
can feel it now. It is enough to make a man split in four, 
like the log of the funerals !” 

Yet, the Grand -Vestal must have this letter without delay. 
A bright idea must have struck Gurges suddenly, for he cut 
an extraordinary caper, and called aloud to his aids to prepare 
to accompany him. 

Four vespillos responded to this call, and followed Gurges 
in the dark streets of Rome. 

Whither were they going? We shall know it later. 


CHAPTER V. 

THE SONS OP DAVID. 

D OMITIAN, it will be remembered, had made an appoint- 
ment with Regulus for the seventh hour. When the 
informer arrived, the crowd of courtiers was already pouring 
into the Imperial palace. The heralds of the Emperor had 
summoned all the Senators, the four colleges of Pontiffs, the 
most respected Flamines, the consulars, magistrates,, and 
many other illustrious citizens. 

Flavius Clemens and his two sons, the young Cmsars, Ves- 
pasian and Homitianus, had not been forgotten. The Empe- 
ror had insisted upon their promising to attend. 

Terror pervaded the groups of courtiers, for no one knew 
the object of this convocation, and all belonged to the con- 
spiracy or made vows for its success. They feared that the 


202 


AURELIA; OR, 


Emperor having discovered the plot, wished to study their 
faces, in the hope they would betray the guilt of the accom- 
plices. But this made their attendance still more imperative, 
for their absence would have been their condemnation. 

Domitian had chosen for his levee, a vast gallery supported 
by circular columns of the finest marble, with bronze capitals. 
He was seated on a chair of ivory studded with gold and 
precious stones. Hirsutus was rolling on a purple carpet at 
his master’s feet. 

Twenty-four lictors, clad in white tunics, surrounded the 
raised platform upon which the curule chair was placed, 
and whence Domitian’ s glance could study the whole assem- 
blage. A cohort of Pretoriana with bucklers and naked 
swords, formed a line around the columns. Their bright hel- 
mets of burnished brass, and brilliant lacernas derived 
additional lustre from the dark back ground of the frescoed 
walls. 

The Emperor had donned the triumphal costume which he 
always wore when presiding the Senate, since his pretended 
victories over the Dacians. This consisted of a tunic of the 
finest white woolen cloth, with palms embroidered in gold ; a 
toga of Tyrian purple ornamented with gold, and white buskins 
studded with pearls. A rich gold chain of delicate workman- 
ship thrown around his neck, sustained a small gold ball 
containing a preservative against envy ; a wreath of wild 
laurel encircled his brow; in his right hantl he held a 
branch of laurel, and in his left, an ivory sceptre surmounted 
by the figure of an eagle. On one of the fingers of this hand 
he wore a plain iron ring, the ancient reward of warlike 
virtues; his arms were encircled in military bracelets, 
insigna of valor. Finally, a slave placed behind him, and 
almost bending under the weight, held over the Emperor’s 
head an etruscan crown interwoven with oak-leaves of gold, 
acorns of precious stones and flame-colored bands. 

But there was not seen around Domitian any of the symbols 
by means of which ancient wisdom was wont to remind the 
triumpher of his own weakness ; neither the slave whose duty 
it was to cry to him from time to time : Remember that thou 
art a man ! nor the rods, emblems of servitude ; nor the 
small bell which served to announce to those condemned to 
death that the last hour had come — none of those means used 


THE JE^yS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


203 


to keep before the eyes of the proud conqueror the proof of 
the instability of things human and the wretchedness which 
fortune might hold in reserve for the most honored and pow- 
erful. 

Amidst all this pompous theatrical display, Domitian, pale 
and silent, gazed with pensive eyes and clouded brow on the 
throng of courtiers, whose names were proclaimed aloud as 
they approached to make their obeissance with bended knee, 
and to take their place, anxious and trembling, on each side 
of the throne. 

Three persons entered, who bowed respectfully, but without 
prostrating themselves. 

The Emperor looked up, surprised, to recognize those who 
had failed to give him this mark of abject submission. His 
eyes fell on Flavius Clemens and his two sons, the presump- 
tive heirs of the empire. 

Domitian reddened, and his eyes flashed ; but he restrained 
his passion, and his features resumed their impenetrable 
mask. 

An involuntary shudder, like the shock of a galvanic bat- 
tery, communicated itself to the crowd of courtiers, already 
the prey of so much anxiety. Among the most anxious was 
Vibius Crispus, who knew too well the reason for the offen- 
sive reserve, so openly manifested by the Emperor’s relations. 

But the fears of the courtiers increased when Marcus 
llegulus made his appearance. The informer’s demeanor 
was as insolent towards the assemblage as it was affectedly 
servile towards the Emperor. The smile of intelligence with 
which Domitian greeted the wretch prostrate at his feet, was 
full of ominous meaning. Every one felt that something 
terrible was about to happen. 

The Emperor and the informer enjoyed together the pitiful 
spectacle of this universal terror. 

At last, Domitian made a sign that he was about to speak. 
All eyes were fixed upon him ; every ear listened eagerly for 
the words that were to relieve the general suspense. 

“ Consuls, senators, pontiffs and citizens,” commenced the 
Emperor with feigned composure. “ I have assembled you to 
witness the interrogatory to which T intend to subject two 
men who will soon be brought before me. 

“I have long been aware that on the faith of pretended 


204 


AURELIA; OR, 


oracles, certain bold individuals have dared to conceive cul- 
pable hopes. The empire is threatened by the secret enter- 
prises of an odious sect. It is claimed that the sons of 
David, King of the Jews, are to take possession of Romr* and 
become the masters of the universe ...” 

Here, the Emperer paused and fixed his eyes on Flavius 
Clemens and his two sons. Their faces expressed unfeigned 
astonishment, but gave no sign of the guilty emotion ^hich 
would have betrayed complicity in the secret schemes alluded 
to by Domitian. 

The Emperor’s words, however, had greatly relieved the 
fears of the courtiers. The conspiracy was, doubtless, still 
shrouded in impenetrable mystery. 

The Emperor continued : 

“I have wished to penetrate these dark schemes. A 
devoted servant, Julius Fronto, has travelled over Judea and 
brought back to Rome the descendants of David. They are 
near by, awaiting my commands. Let them be brought in.” 

All eyes were now turned towards the herald who, upon a 
sign made by the Emperor, went out and soon returned with 
Julius Fronto, and an escort of a few soldiers in whose midst 
were two young men. The latter approached with downcast 
eyes and humble demeanor. 

Domitian was so much surprised at their appearance that 
he arose from his seat exclaiming : 

“Fronto, where are the sons of David . . .? Who arc 
these men ?” 

“The sons of David are at our master’s feet,” replied 
Fronto, loading the two young men to the first step of the 
throne, and bowing respectfully. 

The Emperor and his court gazed with astonishment upon 
the new comers. 

The two young men wore the dress with which tradition 
clothe Christ and his apostles, and which has been preserved 
in the paintings of the great masters. They were clad in a 
plain tunic of coarse woollen stuff, whose ample folds fell to 
their feet ; they were bare-headed, and their hair_, parted 
in the middle, fell on their shoulders in long, thick curls ; 
their feet were protected by sandals fastened with thongs of 
raw-hide ; and each carried a long, knotty staff, shaped like 
a shepherd’s crook. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


205 


When we ndd to this singular dress the dark complexion 
due to the burning sun of Judea 5 the black, flashing eyes, 
Veiled by long, silky lashes^ and the muscular development 
of these youthful forms^ resulting from hard, daily labor in 
the fields, we may understand the surprise of Domitian and 
his eourtiers at the sight of these poor young men suddenly 
brought in the midst of the brilliant crowd who expected to 
reco.guixe in them the descendants of a king I 

It was over a year since Domitian, alarmed by the prophe- 
cies contained in the sibylline books and by the rumors which 
had been spread in Rome relative to the Jews and the heirs 
of their kings, had sent Julius Fronto to Judea, to hunt up 
the sons of David and bring them before him, if any still 
existed, ^ 

On his arrival in Judea, Julius Fronto inquired diiigoatly 
into every circumstance that could put him on the track of 
those he sought, but it was only after a good deal of trouble 
and fruitless search that he discovered them. The last de- 
scendants of the race of David, having been already tormented 
by order of Vespasian who had felt the same fears now 
entertained by Domitian, were hiding to avoid persecution. 

They were the grand-sons of the apostle St. Jude, the 
brother of St. James-the-Minor, both relatives of Jesus 
Christ, and last scions of the illustrious family which conquest, 
and usurpation had dispossessed of the throne. 

These young men resided in the vicinity of Jerusalem, 
leading the humble life of the ancient pastors, and cultivating 
the soil with their own hands. It was there Julius Fronto, 
guided by an informer, found them. The astonishment of 
the two brothers when Domitian’s messenger announced to 
them that they must follow him to Rome, there to give account 
of their ambitious projects to the Emperor, may be imagined. 
Never had the thought of worldly greatness entered those 
simple hearts ; never had the presentiment of higher destinies 
disturbed the peace of mind of those Christians who disdained 
the vain honors of the world. They had to obey, however. 
They arrived in Rome about the time Domitian returned from 
the war against the Dacians. 

The Emperor, amidst the enjoyments of triumph, had for- 
gotten the mission confided to Fronto, and did not inquire 
into its result ; but when Regulus spoke to him of Christianity 
18 


206 


AURELIA; OR, 


and its progress in his own family ; when he saw +hat 
singular letter of Metellus Celer, in which mention was made 
of the advent of two Christian princes to the imperial power, 
his heart was troubled with its old anxiety, revived and 
increased by these new developments. It was in vain Marcus 
Regulus affirmed that the letter referred to the sons of Flavius 
Clemens ; Domitian saw a strange coincidence between the 
decrees of fate which promised Rome and the universe to the 
Jews, and this conspiracy which seemed to announce the 
early realization of these mysterious events. 

In this perplexity the Emperor suddenly remembered that 
Julius Fronto had returned, and he resolved to interrogate 
immediately those whom his agent must have doubtless 
brought with him. This is wdiy we now find the Emperor 
Domitian and the sons of David in presence. 

The former, in all the pomp of the apparel borrowed from 
Jupiter, the king of the gods ! 

Th*e latter, in all the poverty of the garments of Christ, 
the God made man ! 

When Julius Fronto, bowing a second time, repeated: 

“ Yes, my lord, these are the sons of David !” 

Domitian laughed aloud, and the echoes of the gallery re- 
sounded with this merriment of the master, continued with 
exaggeration by the foolish multitude of courtiers. 

And yet, a silent homage was paid to these two poor chil- 
dren. When, surprised at this unexpected explosion of 
insulting contempt, they looked up, they saw, standing near 
the Emperor, Flavius Clemens and his noble sons, who, 
indignant at the outrage offered to the relations of Christ, 
contemplated them with deep emotion and sympathy. 

Domitian began their interrogatory : 

“ You are the sons of David who was King of the Jews?’’ 
asked the Emperor. 

But the two young men remained mute; they did not 
understand the language of the Romans, a fact forgotten by 
Domitian, in his haste. A man stepped out from the crowd 
of courtiers and offered to translate their answers. This was 
Vespasian’s celebrated prisoner, Josephus. Domitian honored 
him' for his vast knowledge, and also, perhaps, on account of 
his well-known hatred against the Christians. 

Josephus repeated the Emperor’s question in Hebrew. It 
was six months since the poor exiles had heard their dear 


THE JEWS OF CAPENA GATE. 


207 


native tongue . These sweet sounds gave them new confidence , 
and their noble countenances became radiant as they turned 
to look at this stranger who spoke the language of Solyma. 

Yes, we are the sons of David,” they replied together. 

Josephus translated this answer. 

Have you any property !” asked Domitian. 

“They declare,” said Josephus, “that they possess 
jointly, land valued at nine thousand deniers, and which they 
cultivate with their own hands.” 

“ You aspire to the empire?” asked Domitian in a tone of 
irony. 

When Josephus had translated this q^uestion, the two 
brothers made no reply, but they looked at the Emperor, and 
with a significant gesture, showed him their callous hands and 
poor garments, as if to say that labor was the sole preoccupa- 
tion of their humble life. 

Yet,” said Domitian, “ your books speak of the kingdom 
of Christ, which it is claimed, will belong to David’s poster- 
ity ?.. . What does this mean ?” 

When Josephus translated this question, Jude, the elder 
brother, replied: 

“ Yes, it is true, the Kingdom of Christ is promised to the 
children of David, that is to all those who will fulfill the law 
and keep the commandents ; the others will be excluded.” 

And where is that kingdom?” asked Domitian. 

“It is everywhere and nowhere,” replied James, the 
second brother, through the interpreter. 

“ How can that be?” said Domitian, with astonishment. 

The two young men, pointing to heaven, replied: 

“It is everywhere because one may conquer it in any 
country ; it is nowhere because it is not of this world, but in 
Heaven !” 

“ And it is this kingdom you are seeking?” continued the 
Emperor, greatly relieved, 

“ Yes,’’ replied Jude and James, “we seek it with all who 
are our brethren in the faith.” 

‘ ‘ Are not these the men called Christians ?” remarked 
Domitian, giving a glance of intelligence to Kegulus, and 
turning towards Flavius Clemens and his two sons, upon 
whose faces could be read a sympathetic admiration for the 
candor and simplicity of this language so full of calm 
assurance. 


208 AURELIA; OR, 

“ They are all men who wish to come with us,’’ replied 
James. > 

And Jude added : 

‘ ‘ The God we adore is great enough to multiply hrs gifts. 
He will give His crowns to all who love Him.” 

“ Who taught you this ?” resumed the Emperor. 

“ Christ and the apostles chosen hy Him. Our ancestor 
died to gain Heaven,” replied the two brothers. 

‘ ‘ Must one then die to obtain those crowns of which you 
speak ?” 

“ Doubtless, since God gives them not for a time, but for 
eternity. However, a day will come when Christ will mani- 
fest himself in all his glory, and appear to judge the living 
and the dead.” 

“ Is this day near?” asked Domitian. 

“We do not know,” said the two young men ; “ when it 
comes it will be the consummation of ages.” 

“So, you desire nothing in this world, and you wait for 
death to enjoy the great things that have been promised 
you? . . 

“We wait until our God, calling us to Him, will show us 
His salvation, and our confidence will not be deceived . . . 
But, at present, we wish to see Jerusalem, our flocks and the 
fields we cultivate . . 

The two brothers were deeply moved, and they looked be- 
seechingly at the Emperor as they spoke these last words. 

“ That may be done,” said Domitian, who no longer 
feared these two poor lads. “ Have they stated the truth?” 
he resumed, addressing Josephus. 

“ Yes, my lord,” replied the Pharisian, whn had recently 
written the magnificent eulogy of Christ, which we find in 
his works. “ Him they call Jesus and whom they adore as 
the Messiah announced in our books, said, during his life, 
that his kingdom was not of this world, . . . and his dis- 
ciples aspire, in fact, only to eternal goods.” 

The hatred J osephus bore the Christians was merely philo- 
sophical; as a Jew and as a son of the Macchabees, he 
venerated, moreover, the last descendants of the race of 
David. He strove, therefore, to increase by his answer the 
interest which the Emperor began to manifest towards these 
illustrious and humble young men. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


209 


Domitian having no further questions to ask, ordered Julius 
Fronto to take away those sons of David who no longer gave 
him uneasiness. 

AVhen the two brothers left the imperial gallery, no sarcastic 
laughter was heard, but the eyes of the courtiers followed 
their retreating forms with secret admiration. These poor 
Jews, by the sublime simplicity of their language and the 
unknown elevation of their answers had proved that their 
wretched garments concealed a greatness worthy of the scions 
of a royal race. 

A general silence followed their departure. Domitian, like 
his courtiers, was evidently under the influence of those 
strange words spoken for the first time in the imperial palace. 
Those w^ho watched every motion of the Emperor remarked 
that his looks went from Regulus to Flavius Clemens and the 
two young Caesars upon whom he gazed with a sort of stupor. 

For a long time he remained thoughtful, revolving in his 
mind some secret question. At last he broke this painful 
silence by asking Flavius Clemens. 

“ Do you know the projects of Lucius Antonius?” 

This abrupt question sent a shudder through the assem- 
blage; but Flavius Clemens heard it without emotion. He 
did not even observe the angry look with which Domitian 
accompanied it, and replied quietly : 

No, my lord, I do not. I believe Lucius Antonius is in 
Germany laboring to protect the empire against the barbar- 
ians, and sustain the honor of the Homan arms.” 

“Lucius Antonius is a traitor!” exclaimed Domitian, 
unable to control himself any longer. “ He has raised the 
standard of rebellion and wants to march upon Rome ! . . . 
But his schemes are discovered and measures have been taken 
to defeat them,” he added, casting angry looks on the terror- 
stricken courtiers. 

“ I was not aware of this,” said Flavius Clemens, gravely. 

‘ ‘ Have you not read the proclamations posted during the 
night by his bold agents ?” asked Domitian. 

“I have read those proclamations, and deeply deplored the 
act,” replied Flavius Clemens. “ But, as they bear no sig- 
nature and indicate no seditious plans, I could neither imagine 
they were the work of Lucius Antonius, nor suspect an in- 
surrection of his legions.” 

18 * 


210 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ Flavius,” said the Emperor, “are you ready to march 
vrith me against that rebel V” 

“ My arm and my blood belong to the prince. . . I shall 
follow you with joy, my lord, and shall fight with all my 
might at your side. . .” 

“My lord,” cried together, Vespasian and Domitianus, 
“permit us to accompany our father, and to make our first 
campaign against Lucius Antonius I” 

The Emperor made no reply to this request, although ho 
examined attentively the candid features of the two young 
men. But turning to the courtiers : 

“My will,” he said, “ is to leave Borne within eight days 
to surprise the traitor Antonius in his first projects. Let 
each of you ” — and he repeated the words with emphasis — 

let each of you hold himself in readiness to follow me . . , 
Greeting. . . ” 

Upon this word, which meant that the Emperor wished to 
be alone, the courtiers hastened to leave the gallery, carrying 
in their hearts a terrible fear, and the presentiment of the 
vengeance which Domitian reserved for a later day. The 
lictors and the pretorians, obeying a sign of the Emperor, 
followed the crowd, and Domitian remained alone with Begu- 
lus and Hirsutus, who, lying at his master’s feet, was playing 
with a magnificent dog of Gallic race, and seemed to look 
with indifierence on what had taken place. 

“Well, Begulus, what do you think of this?” asked the 
Emperor. 

“Well, my lord,” replied Begulus, “you need have no 
uneasiness concerning these sons of David. Did I not tell 
you that those oracles mean nothing ? The danger is not in 
that quarter. . .” 

Where is it, then?” 

“ My lord, did you observe the faces of those who sur- 
rounded you ? What anxiety they expressed at first ? What 
joy when they thought you knew nothing of the conspiracy ? 
But what confusion when you mentioned the name of Lucius 
Antonius! . . .By Jupiter! all these people conspire with 
him ...” 

“ It is so,” said Domitian, gloomily. “ But what do you 
think of Flavius Clemens and his two sons ?” 

“ They have shown more cunning than the others, that is 
all . . . All those Jews can dissemble with incredible per- 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


211 


fidy . . , for, after all, my lord, you have read Metellus 
Celer’s letter which leaves no doubt ...” 

But the Emperor here interrupted Begulus, pointing at 
Hirsutus, whom it was perhaps imprudent to initiate into 
these matters. 

The lad, who saw this gesture, laughed hideously, distend- 
ing his mouth in a fearful manner. 

“ What is the matter, Ilirsutus?” asked Domitian. 

“ The matter is that my hand hurts me dreadfully, and I 
cim relieving the pain in my own way,” replied the dwarf, in 
a rough tone. 

'‘What shall I do?” resumed the Emperor, addressing 
Regulus. 

“ My lord, you should act like the Jews, that is dissimu- 
late ... At present, severity might he dangerous, hut after 
the rebellion is crushed, we shall have the names of the ac- 
complices, and then . . .” 

Domitian made again a sign of caution. 

“ It is true, my lord, I am the first to forget the prudence 
I had recommended. . . But we had better interrupt this 
conversation,” added Begulus, bowing respectfully, “ my 
lord, you may always rely on my zeal ... I shall soon give 
you new proofs of it. . .” 

And the informer withdrew. Domitian left the gallery, 
soon after, followed by Hirsutus. The dwarf had not lost a 
single word of the conversation between the Emperor and 
Begulus. It seemed to have suggested to him some new 
design, which he was now revolving in his mind. 

The Emperor was even more embarrassed than Hirsutus. 
The necessity of crushing the rebellion in G-ermany* in its 
incipient state, would require him to leave Borne immediately, 
and therefore compel him to delay his vengeance until he 
should have gained a victory over the rebels. He could not 
persecute his relations now, without danger; for, if they be- 
longed to the conspiracy, their arrest might hasten an out- 
break in Borne, and if they were strangers to it, the mere 
fact of their being Christians would not justify their punish-, 
ment. The Jews, hated and despised, were not, however, 
looked xtpon as criminals worthy of death. 

He left Borne, accompanied by the whole Senate. 

On the same day, a ship was leaving the port of Pozzuolo, 


212 AURELIA; OR, 

having on board the sons of David. They were returning to 
their home in Judea. 

Before returning to our principal heroines, we must ex- 
plain two important facts : How llegiilus had obtained the 
documents brought by him to Domitian ; and where Gurges 
was going with Metellus Celer’s letter to the Grand-Yestal. 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE MYSTERIES OF THE TEMPLE OF ISIS. 

O N the morning of the day when the first proclamation of 
Lucius Antonius was found posted on the walls of Rome 
and carried to Domitian by the Senator Palfurius Sura, a young 
woman could have been seen issuing from a house of modest 
appearance, situated near the Catulania gate, and descending 
hurriedly the public highway, despite the early hour and the 
threatening clouds which overhung the sky. 

She was of small stature, and seemed of humble condition, 
if one could judge from the simplicity of her attire, and from 
the fact that she went out on foot and alone, which was not 
customary with Roman ladies of some rank. To protect her- 
self from the damp air, she wore the impluviatxim, a sort of 
cloak for rainy weather, and under this, the regilla, a long 
tunic which could replace the stole. A thick veil concealed 
half her face, but the beauty of the visible half would have 
satisfied the most fastidious. 

•Upon leaving the house, the young woman looked disap- 
pointedly at the condition of the sky, and she even paused, 
uncertain, but her business must have admitted of no de- 
lay, for she pushed on bravely. Having crossed the Capitu- 
lania gate, looking round carefully to see if she was watched, 
she reascended, after turning to the left, as far as the Lata 
way which she followed some distance, then, abruptly turning 
again to the left, she crossed the porticoes of the Septa Julia 
in all their width. A few moments later she stood opposite 
two large edifices situated parallelly near to each other, above 
and below Agrippa’s baths. These two edifices were the 
temples of Isis and Serapis. In front of the latter was an 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


213 


obelisk constructed of red granite, and eighteen feet liigli, 
and two marble lions. 

There was also an obelisk in front of the temple of Isis, and 
two colossal statues of the gods who presided over the Nile 
and the Tiber. The Nile god was leaning on a she-wolf 
which was suckling Romulus and Remus ; the Tiber reclined 
on a sphynx. Each river-god held a cornucopia full of 
fruits. These two groups were carved from blocks of the 
finest white marble. 

A flight of broad marble steps led to the temple of Isis on 
the side fronting the Septa Julia. It opened on a court sur- 
rounded with magnificent porticoes, in the centre of which 
W'as the temple consecrated to the Egyptian divinity. At the 
furthest end of the court were the habitations of the priests 
in charge of the temple. These buildings communicated on 
the rear with some fine gardens, known as ‘ ‘ the gardens of 
Isis,” and which extended to Agrippa’s baths. 

Before ascending the steps, the young woman looked round 
to see if she had been followed ; but the Septa Julia was 
deserted at this early hour. Grathering the folds of her im- 
pluviatum and slightly raising her regilla, she then ran up 
the steps rapidly ; a performance which would have gratified 
an early riser with the sight of the neatest little foot the 
proudest matron could ever boast of. The little woman crossed 
the porticoes with the same haste, and without stopping at 
the temple, from whose open doors loud voices and noisy in- 
struments were heard, she ran to the buildings occupied by 
the priests, and knocked at the door of the middle one. 

After some delay, heavy steps were heard approaching; 
one of the panels of the door slid back on a groove, and 
the horrible face of an old woman filled the aperture. 

Many matrons would have drawn back in alarm at this 
fearful apparition ; but our unknown must have been accus- 
tomed to the sight, for she manifested no surprise. 

“ Enothea,” she asked, addressing the old hag with easy 
familiarity, “ is not the Archigallus at home?” 

“■Now then !” exclaimed the hag, instead of answering the 
simple question propounded, “ here is another one who does 
not know that the Archigallus is never at home at this hour ! 
... By Isis ! . . . Did you not see that the temple is 
open ? Did you not hear the noise of the ceremony ? . . . 
Go there, if you wish to accuse yourself!” 


214 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ Enotliea,’’ remarked the young woman in a tone of just 
displeasure ; “ is this the way to speak to me ? I know the 
Archigallus is in the temple at this hour. . . But I come for 
another motive. . . Apollo will he satisfied, indeed, when he 
learns how you have received me !” 

The hag, who had already drawn hack her head thrust it 
again in the aperture : 

“What do you want?” she asked roughly. 

“ This is astonishing?” exclaimed the unknown. But this 
is not the first time I have come to speak in private to the 
Archigallus ! . . . and regarding matters which hrook no 
delay! ...” 

“Then you must come hack at the sixth hour. The 
Archigallus is never free until that time, and even then, it is 
the hour he takes his nap ;” replied Enothea crossly. 

“ At least,” insisted the young woman, “do not fail to 
tell him it is Gellia, the wife of Misitius, who wishes to have 
a secret interview with him. This is very important !” 

“ He shall he told,” replied doggedly the hag, and she 
closed the panel in the face of the little matron, whose name 
we now know. 

Grellia, more than dissatisfied with this reception, ran down 
the marhle steps as rapidly as she had ascended them, hut 
instead of returning the way she had come, she took the rond 
which ran near the Elaminius Circus, passed Ponipoy’s 
theatre, and stopped only when she reached the Tiber, be- 
tween the Janiculum bridge and the Vatican or Triumphal 
bridge, thus named, because it led to the wide and long street 
through which triumphers ascended to the capitol. 

The shore of the river and the vast plain depending of the 
the Campus Martius, used as a race course once a year, pre- 
sented the most extraordinary spectacle when Gellia arrived. 

Through the dense fog occasioned by the dampness of the 
weather, the eye could discover the dim forms of three or 
four hundred women of all conditions, who, singly or in 
groups, were performing the most singular exercises. Some, 
descending near the river’s edge, with their long hair loosene 1 , 
plunged in their heads three times, notwithstanding the icy 
coldness of the water. Others, — and they were the most 
numerous — raising their garments as high as the knee, knelt 
on the hard ground and painfully dragged themselves for- 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


215 


ward, beating their breasts, and invoking the gods aloud. 
Their knees, torn by the sharp pebbles, left bloody tracks on 
the sand ; some would fall, exhausted and faint, but gather- 
ing new courage, they would resume their painful task 
until the whole distance was accomplished. 

Gellia, with her habitual vivacity of manner, went straight 
to the Tiber and dipped her hand in the water. She with- 
drew it quickly, making a very wry face, disappointed in 
finding it so cold. But the little woman had made up her 
mind and would not be deterred by sa trifling a matter. She 
took off her veil, and her raven black hair fell loose on her 
shoulders ; she shook off her impluviatum and remained pro- 
tected only by her regilla — an animated copy of the statue of 
alarmed Modesty. Then^ kneeling on the margin of the shore 
she resolutely dipped her head three times. 

The ablution ended, the little matron drew from her pocket 
a snow-white woolen towel and carefully wiped her face and 
her long hair, which she smoothed with a shell comb, con- 
sulting attentively a small mirror of polished steel. Satisfied 
with the examination, she resumed her impluviatum and her 
veil. But this was not all. Baising slightly her regilla, she 
now knelt on the sand in the rear of the long file of penitents 
and proceeded to imitate them in the performance we have 
already described. 

All these matrons were 'penitents of the Archigallus and 
other priests of the temple of Isis, fulfilling the penalties 
prescribed by them, Gellia, one of the most devoted, had 
come to perform the double penance in order to liquidate her 
debt entirely before calling on the Archigallus. Juvenal has 
described the mysteries of Isis. He will be our guide in our 
visit to the temple. 

Women alone were admitted into the sanctuary, where the 
priests assembled around the altars of the goddess. 

In the centre of the sanctuary there was a statue of Isis 
standing O]? the terestrial globe, with this inscription : 

lam all that has heen, all that is, all that will he. 

On another altar a silver serpent was rcpresented,-entwined 
around a leafless tree. 

Are not the words of this inscription the same spoken by 
Jehovah from the burning bush in Iloreb? And is not this 
serpent a reminiscence of that shown by Moses to the people 
in the wilderness ? 


216 


AURELIA; OR, 


But discordant sounds fill the sanctuary. The priests 
(gallii) are uttering frantic yells and beating their drums or 
clashing their cymbals. Some simulate madness ; others in 
prey to a real phrenzy, bruise their limbs and tear their flesh. 
The Archigallus commands silence, and every noise is hushed. 
He raises his voice and addresses his feminine audien.ee. 

He threatens with the most dire calamities those who will 
remain indifferent to his warnings or rebellious against his 
counsels. The only means of avoiding these fearful evils is 
to purchase forgiveness by offerings or to submit to expiations. 

He pauses and the horrible noise is renewed, the phrensy 
of the priests becomes uncontrollable. Again he commands 
silence, and speaks : 

“ Who is she, who has violated the sacred precept and has 
failed to observe the consecrated days exclaims the Archi- 
gallus in a solemn voice. ‘ ‘ Let her accuse herself and im- 
plore forgiveness ! . . 

He points at the silver serpent, and^ 0 wonder I the reptile 
moves, its mouth opens, its eyes flash ! 

* “ Is there no woman here who has transgressed the rules 
and who wishes to be pardoned 

This second invitation is received in silence ; the assem- 
blage seems struck with stupor. At last a woman makes a 
sign^ and moves towards the Archigallus who hastens to meet 
her. He leans towards her and she whispers in his ear the 
story of her faults. Then, the Archigallus leads her to the 
altar, and both kneel before the silver serpent. The eyes of 
the priest are filled with tears, his lips speak words of suppli- 
cation. He implores forgiveness for the penitent at his side. 

He then rises and announces in a loud voice that an offering 
will be made and a severe penance imposed. A priest brings 
forward the gifts presented by the repentant woman. They 
consist in a fine goose and large, flat cakes of a rounded 
-shape. The Archigallus presents these gifts to the serpent.’ 
He declares that the penitent shall thrice plunge her head 
into the cold water of the Tiber during the early hours of the 
day ; or that she shall crawl round the Campus Martius on her 
bare knees ; or, even if Isis orders it, she shall go to the confines 
of Egypt, in the island of Meroe to bring back water from 
the hot and salutary springs, which shall be poured into the 
temple. All the priests join in supplications to the divinity to 


THE JEWS OF CAPENA GATE, 


217 


look leniently upon the faults redeemed by repentance and 
pious gifts. The serpent, which has remained long motion- 
less, moves at last its head in token of pardon. 

Such, at least, is the interpretation given by the priests to 
a slight motion of the serpent’s head towards the prostrate 
woman. They sing “ lo ! lo !” and utter cries of triumph. 

The Archigallus proclaims that the divinity is satisfied, 
provided the penance imposed is fulfilled. 

The example of this repentant matron is followed by others, 
and the same ceremony is repeated again and again. Each 
woman listening to the Archigallus as if Isis herself spoke, 
and believing herself fully pardoned provided she fulfills her 
penance. 

We shall now return to the lively Grellia. The pretty 
little matron could see no better way to while away time than 
a little shopping excursion among the fashionable establish- 
ments of the Septa Julia. The hour appointed to meet the 
Archigallus finds her thus pleasantly engaged. She hurries 
off to the temple, and knocks once more at the door with the 
sliding panel. 

The heavy steps are again heard^ and Enothea’s ugly face 
shows itself in the aperture. 

“ Enothea,” inquired Gellia, “the mysteries must be 
ended, and Apollo is doubtless waiting for me ?” 

“ Come in,” replied the old woman, with her accustomed 
roughness. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE ARCHIGALLUS APOLLO. 

A pollo, the Archigallus and flamine of Cybele and IsiSk 
was a man of a fine, commanding appearance. He waa 
about sixty years old, and his long white hair gave him a 
very venerable look. He wore no beard. His rosy cheeks- 
and double chin denoted the man who makes a proper use of 
the good things of this world. This healthy appearance 
formed a contrast with that of the thin-visaged, half-starved 
galliii his subordinates, with whom he shared the geese and 


218 


AURELIA; OR, 


cakes offered by their penitents. The priests received no 
support from the state, and had to rely on the liberality or 
charity of the citizens. The only exceptions to this rule were 
in the case of the Vestals, and the Pontiffs who were of a 
higher order than the Fiamines. 

If Apollo had had no other resources than the perquisites 
of the temple, he might have been reduced, like many of his 
colleagues, to travel about the country, with a small donkey 
to carry his baggage, and a statue of Cybele to provoke the 
pious generosity of his dupes. But Apollo had Enothea. 

This fearfully ugly old woman was the secret power of the 
priest’s house. She found great advantages in living under 
his roof, and in return, had arranged for him an existence of 
ease and plenty. 

She prepared all sorts of medicinal powders and draughts, 
which she sold at a very good price. Nobody could conduct 
more skillfully an intrigue, and derive greater benefits from 
the necessities of others. She manufactured, with remarka- 
ble art, the numerous charms so eagerly sought by the super- 
stitious Homan matrons ; and she had for sale a complete 
collection of statues of the “little gods,” whose number had 
become eo greatly multiplied by the vain, fearful, ambitious 
or voluptuous passions of the people. She added to these 
resources the secret sale of sacred offerings, magical consul- 
tations, nocturnal incantations and a thousand other traffics. 

Enothea lived between the Archigallus, whose priestly 
character increased her influence, a large black cat which she 
used in her incantations, and a big old gander whose vigi- 
lance was excelled only by its boldness. This bird, more 
irritable than a watch- dog, would scarcely permit a stranger 
to cross the threshold of the house ; more than one matron 
had had her stole torn by its sharp bill ; more than one citi- 
zen had fled, his calves bruised by the repeated blows of wings 
that struck as hard as a flail. 

This is what happened when the lively Gellia entered the 
atrium. The big gander, suddenly disturbed, rushed upon 
her furiously, its neck stretched, its terrible bill open, and 
its wings spread out like the sails of a ship. 

But Gellia knew the gander, whose attacks she had felt 
more than once, and she had sworn to punish it. Perceiving 
on a stone bench near by, a long sharp knife with which 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


219 


Enothea had been carving the bust of some god, she seized 
it hastily, and struck such a furious blow at the ugly bird 
that she completely severed its head. 

The lamentable cries uttered by Enothea, when she saw 
the sacred gander lying on the ground, a bleeding and lifeless 
mass, alarmed the Archigallus and brought him out of the 
house. AVhen he saw Gellia still brandishing the bloody 
knife, the gander lying in the last struggles of death, and 
the old hag tearing her hair and calling vengeance upon the 
head of the young woman, Apollo could not restrain a smile 
of secret satisfaotion. He had often suiTered from the attacks 
of the wicked gander, who respected only Enothea, and it 
was clear that the bird’s sudden death gave him no displeas- 
ure. Yet, out of regard for the witch, he thought proper 
to say to Gellia : 

“What you have done is very wrong! Quite wrong, 
indeed ! . . . This goose was sacred ! . . .” 

‘ ‘ Should I have allowed myself to be torn to pieces by 
that ugly bird,” replied Gellia. “The last time I came here, 
it carried olf the hem of my regilla, and my ankle was bruised 
black and blue, by its wings. . . . But let the sacred goose 
alone,” she added, giving Enothea a mocking smile, “Apollo, 
I want to speak to you of very important matters.” 

The Archigallus, paying no further attention to the lamen- 
tations of Enothea, who was pressing her beloved gander in 
her arms and endeavoring to restore him to life with magic 
words, hastened to introduce the young woman into a private 
room where they could converse unheard. This was not the 
first time Gellia had called to consult the Archigallus on the 
matter that troubled her, and he was anxious to learn more 
on the subject. 

Gellia had commenced by entertaining Apollo with some 
little grievances concerning her husband, but he was not long 
discovering that there was something more important than 
matrimonial bickerings. Misitius, the tender husband, had 
suddenly become gloomy, taciturn and intractable ; he went 
out frequently at night, and Gellia had not been able to ascer- 
tain whither he went. He had mysterious interviews with 
people who appeared and disappeared abruptly ; he was con- 
tinually receiving messages, and would then shut himself up , 
for hours, in the most private room in the house ; all that 


220 


AURELIA; OR, 


■Gellia had discovered was that he had made numerous copies 
of the flying sheets left him by his visitors. 

Once Misitius had been absent a whole month. Where 
had he been ? What had he done during that time ? He 
would not tell her ! But he had returned more anxious and 
morose than he had ever been. Another time, a man dressed 
in a toga of mourning, and wrapped in the folds of a wide 
pallium, had sought shelter in their house, in the middle of 
the night. Misitius had received him with every mark of 
respectful deference, but during the two days that this 
stranger remained, Gellia had been compelled to leave the 
house and to seek the hospitality of a friend. 

In fine, the young woman, thus neglected, and ma^e 
unhappy by the unaccountable change in her husband, had 
felt the need of some friend to whom she could confide her 
troubles ; and she had naturally selected Apollo, who enjoyed 
the confidence of so many matrons. The curiosity with which 
the Archigallus listened to her complaints, had gradually 
changed into a lively interest in those mysteries, and he anx- 
iously expected their unraveling. He suspected the cause, 
and without revealing it to Gellia, he had encouraged her to 
make further discoveries and further revelations. 

When they reached the private room and were secured 
from interruption, the Archigallus hastened to ask Gellia : 

“ Well, what news?’^ 

“I come/^ said she, “from the Tiberine field, where I 
have fulfilled my two expiations. You had reproached me so 
severely, the last time, for having neglected them.” 

‘ ‘ This is quite right, quite right,” repeated the Archigal- 
lus, “for you had procrastinated long enough. . . But, 
what else ?” 

“Here is what I found last night,” replied Gellia, handing 
him a crumpled sheet of papyrus. 

It was a copy of the first proclamation sent by Lucius Anto- 
nius, which had been afl&xed to the walls of Borne during 
that same night. Apollo gave a start of surprise as he read 
this document. 

“ How did you manage to get possession of this?” he asked 
Gellia. 

“Misitius went out at dusk, day before yesterday, and 
returned in the middle of the night, carrying a large pack- 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


221 


age securely tied up in emporetic papyrus. He did not go to 
bed, and all day, yesterday^ he was doing some secret work, 
writing continually. From time to time there came strangers 
to see him, who went away almost immediately, doubtless 
with copies handed them by my husband, for one of them^ as 
he went out, dropped this one which I picked up to bring to 
you. . . Misitus went out again last night. . . and this 
morning, when I left home, he had not yet returned.” 

“Do you know,” said the Archigallus, “that Misitius 
would be a ruined man if the Emperor saw this libel ?” 

“ You think so?” asked the young woman artlessly. 

Apollo looked at her with astonishment. 

“Have you not then read this document?” he asked. 

“ Certainly I have. . . I saw that much ill is said of the 
Emperor. . . But I am so careless that I have not given 
much attention to this. . . Besides, how can the Emperor 
know of the existence of this document ?” 

Gellia, as well as the Archigallus, was not aware that 
many copies had been affixed to the walls of Borne. 

“ Oh ! the Emperor knows a great many things,” remarked 
Apollo in a singular tone ; and he added abruptly : ‘ ‘ Sup- 
pose Misitius was a conspirator ?” ^ 

“Misitius a conspirator!” exclaimed the young woman, 
growing pale at this sudden revelation. 

“ Yes, a conspirator,” repeated the Archigallus. “Other- 
wise what is the meaning of all these mysteries you have told 
me about ? those sudden departures and as sudden returns. . . 
those people who come and go. . . that silent and solitary 
task. . . those multiplied copies of mysterious documents ? . .” 

“ Oh! I see it now . . . I see it now,” cried Gellia, and 
she sank on her knees, sobbing bitterly, “ Misitius is lost!” 

“ No, he will not be lost,” said the Archigallus thought- 
fully. “I know a means to save him. . .” 

“ What is it?” asked the young woman, trembling with 
anxiety. 

“ I cannot say yet,” replied Apollo, “ but you will know 
it to-day. . . Leave this document with me, and retire to 
your house,” he-added solemnly, ‘ ‘ I must think over this. . .” 

Gellia, somewhat comforted by his promise, took leave of 
the priest of Isis. Had she been less absorbed in her grief, 
she might have seen, as she crossed the atrium, the fearful 
19 =“ 


222 


AURELIA; OR, 


Enothea standing in a threatening attitude, and muttering 
the words of a myst -ious invocation, as she threw on the path 
of the young woman the withered leaves of some magical 
plant. But poor little Gellia had too much anguish in her 
heart, and her eyes were too wet with tears, to permit her 
seeing the old hag. She went hack slowly by the road she 
had followed so briskly that morning, and reached her humble 
home. 

Misitius had just returned. 

Immediately after Giellia’s departure, the Archigallus went 
out, telling Enothea that he could be found at Eutrapeles^ 
barber shop, if any one wanted to see him. It was Apollo’s 
daily habit to listen to the barber’s gossip whilst having his 
locks perfumed. 

But when the flamine came in sight of Eutrapeles’ shop, it 
seemed to him that an unusually large crowd besieged that 
fashionable establishment. Such was the case, in foct, and 
the Archigallus, when he got nearer, saw a singular specta- 
cle. Eutrapeles was struggling to get away from a centu- 
rion, and protesting aloud that he was not the author of the 
proclamation. Struck by these words, Apollo inquired why 
the barber was being arrested. He was told that a copy of 
the proclamation had been pasted on Eutrapeles’ wall during 
the night ; a crowd had assembled to read it ; and a pretorian 
had torn the paper from the wall and taken it to his centurion, 
who had come to arrest Eutrapeles, holding him responsible 
for the insult publicly offered the Emperor. 

“ Very well,” said the Archigallus, “ I must try to help 
the poor barber out of this scrape.” And pushing his way 
through the crowd, he approached the centurion. 

" ‘ Will you permit me,” said he, ‘ ‘to see the document which 
our friend Eutrapeles, usually so devoted to the Emperor, is 
accused of having written ?” 

The officer gave the Archigallus one of the fragments. 

“ It is as I thought,” said Apollo, who immediately recog- 
nized the handwriting of Misitius and the wording of the 
proclamation. “ Centurion,” he added, “ do not trouble our 
poor Eutrapeles any longer ; the author of this abominable 
diffamation is known, and that great citizen, Marcus Begulus, 
will give a good account of the whole affair to the Emperor.” 

No one, in Rome, would have dared to doubt the public 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


223 


and solemn affirmation of a priest. The centurion bowed, 
and released the barber. 

Eutrapeles was so delighted by this happy turn of the 
adventure, that he would have willingly poured his whole 
stock of precious essences on Apollo’s head. However, he 
embraced him most lovingly, which was a less expensive way 
of showing his gratitude. 

“ Eutrapeles,” whispered the flamine in his ear, “ shut up 
your shop and let us go in immediately. . . I have some- 
thing important to tell you.” 

The barber hastened to comply with this request, and the 
crowd dispersed, much disappointed. 

“My good friend,” said the Archigallus when they were 
alone, “ You must go immediately to Regulus. You will 
tell him simply that it is Misitius, the flute player at the 
sacrifices, who receives and distributes these proolamations.” 

And he drew from the folds of his sacerdotal robe the copy 
given him by G-ellia. The astonished barber looked on 
inquiringly. 

“ This is all I know,” added the Archigallus, who under- 
stood this mute iueerpellation, “But Begulus is a gr*3at 
man. . . he will know what to do. Grood-bye, Eutrapeles, 
you should not lose a moment.” And they p irted. 

Thus is explained a great event that caus'ed much wonder 
among the barber’s fashionable customers, to wit : the closing 
up during half a day of Eutrapeles’ tonsorial establishment. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


ILLUSIONS OP A CONSPIRATOE. 


E have stated that on Gellia’s arrival home, she had 



vv found Misitius who had just returned from his myste- 
rious journey. 

“At last, Misitius,” said the young woman, “we must 
have an explanation.” 

‘ ‘ An explanation ? concerning what ?” asked Misitius 
gloomily. 

“ Misitius, you conspire !” exclaimed Gellia, amidst a flood 
of tears. 


224 


AURELIA; OR, 


And as Misitius made a gesture of denial. 

“ Yes, you conspire,” she repeated in a peremptory tone. 
“ I know it now. . . I have the proof of it.” 

“ How do you know it ?” asked Misitius uneasily. 

“For the past three months Misitius is scarcely ever at 
home ; Misitius neglects his wife ; Misitius has dealings with 
suspicious people who hide ; Misitius is silent, pensive, anx- 
ious, in prey to continual fear; Misitius copies seditious 
writings, one of which fell into my hands yesterday, and 
Misitius asks how I know that ho conspires!” replied the 
little woman with great volubility. 

“Oh 1 Grods !” sighed Mesitius, and he looked at his wife, 
with stupid wonder. 

“You are working your ruin, Misitius, and mine also.” 

And Gellia, falling on a seat, hid her face in her hands and 
sobbed violently. 

“ Gellia,” whispered Misitius in her ear, “ in a few days 
we shall enjoy the greatest honors and all the blessings of 
wealth. . . Yes, I conspire, but is for you, my .Gellia, for 
you alone, do you hear? They have promised me the sacer- 
dotal rank. . . You will be the Martial Flamina ? . . . .” 

“Fool!” cried Gellia in a tone that stopped the flow of 
words of her too confiding husband. “ How,” she proceeded, 
“can you, a simple flute-player at the sacrifices, believe that 
they will confer upon you a dignity which in former times 
was the prerogative of patricians ? . . .” 

> “ Why not?” asked Misitius, “ if it is given as the reward 
of great services rendered Home by the overthrow of her 
tyrant. . .” 

That’s it! that’s it!” repeated Gellia, stamping the floor 
in a nervous manner. “The tibicine Misitius is going to 
overthrow the Emperor! . . . unless the Emperor should 
make a mouthful of this Misitius 1 . . . Indeed, I don’t 
know what keeps me from wreaking my resentment on you, 
as I did this morning on the sacred gander of the Archigal- 
lus !” 

The name of the Archigallus caused Misitius to start, 
but as a husband will not give up so easily the point contested 
by his wife, he resumed in an animated and solemn tone : 

‘ ‘ But you are not aware that an army will soon march 
upon Home. . . that the general commanding that army 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


225 


waits my signal. . . that it is I wlio have fixed the day for 
the uprising. . .” 

G-ellia, notwithstanding her fear, looked compassionately 
at her husband. 

“Misitius, my poor Misitius,’’ said she, interrupting him, 
and there was a great tenderness in her voice, “are you 
insane ? What is it that has disturbed your mind so ? Poor 
man, where have you picked up these visions? . . 

“Visions! G-ellia . . . they are realities 1 . . 

“ So much the worse, then ! . . . You area poor fool 
whom wicked people have caught in a snare. . . They make 
use of you, Misitius I . . . But you will be the victim ! . 

“ Impossible, Gellia 1 . . 

“ Tell me, Misitius,” asked the young woman, “ when 
you are in the theatre and you blow in your flute to accompany 
the actor, is it you the audience applauds ?” 

“ Of course not. . . but. . .” 

“And when you are in the temple,” continued Gellia, 
charming the assembly with the melodious sounds of your 
instrument, is it to you or to the sacrificers the pfferings are 
brought ?” 

“ But, Gellia, what connection is there. . .” 

“ This one, dear Misitius ; you are again playing for the 
benefit of others. . . The General triumphing will reap the 
ovations and honors, and Misitius will be forgotten. The Gen- 
eral failing. .. . I will not say what will happen to Misitius. . .” 

“What shall I say? Gellia, the die is cast,” muttered 
Misitius, finding the argument unanswerable. 

“But, fortunately,” continued the little woman, “Misitius 
has a wife who watches over him and will save him. . . The 
Archigallus promised me. . .” 

‘ ‘ Does the Archigallus know ?” asked the tibicine with 
terror. 

‘ ‘ The Archigallus has in his possession the document I 
picked up yesterday, and which is, he told me, a proclama- 
tion. . 

But the young woman stopped in her turn, terrified by the 
sudden change in her husband’s features. The poor flute- 
player had become ashy pale and was trembling in all his 
limbs. 

“ Gellia,” he muttered, “you have ruined me! All will 
be discovered now ! . . .” 


226 


AURELIA; OR, 


‘ ‘ The Archigallus is an honest man !’’ faltered the little 
woman uneasily. 

“Oh! the women, the women!’’ said Misitius dolefully. 
‘ ‘ They cannot he kept from going to those wretched Gallii ! 
Gellia, you are not aware thaX I have had this proclamation 
distributed in Rome last night. . . and that the Archigallus 
is the bosom friend of the infamous Regulus. . . Do you 
understand now what you have done ? . . .” 

“Oh!” cried Gellia, throwing herself in her husband’s 
arms^ “ can this be true ? dear Misitius. . 

The two young people held each other in a long embrace, 
mingling their sobs and not daring to communicate to each 
other their thoughts. 

Misitius and Gellia had only been married two years. 
Their story is simple and touching. Both belonged to that 
numerous class of individuals whom the Roman laws pro- 
nounced sui generis at their birth, because they were consid- 
ered as having no father. 

Misitius’ mother, who died when he was twenty y.ears old, 
was a freedwoman protected by the King of the Sacrifices. 
Formerly, the Roman Kings presided in person the immola- 
tion of victims. When the republic succeeded the monarchy, 
this title was given to a priest, in order to preserve the ancient 
rite. But the name ‘ ‘ King ’’was so odious, that the Sacrificer 
fled from the forum as soon as this ceremony was ended. 

During the invocations and prayers, a flute-player accom- 
panied the voice of the priests with the sound of his ivory 
instrument. The King of the Sacrifices gave this position to 
Misitius, who obtained a similar employment at the theatre. 
He guided and sustained the voice of the actors by playing 
on a silver flute 

Young Misitius earned thereby enough to live comforta- 
bly, but he felt very lonely in the midst of that immense city 
of Rome, where, since his mother’s death, there was no one 
to care for him. One evening, as he was returning home, 
Misitius heard some one groaning in the recess of a private 
portico. He approached ^and found, crouching in the dark, 
a poor young girl, who seemed in prey to the most bitter 
grief. 

This young girl was Gellia. 

She told him that on that same day her mother’s corpse had 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


227 


been consumed on the funeral pile, and she was now without 
friends or shelter, having been driven from the house by piti- 
less creditors. Misitius, the poor orphan, was deeply moved 
by this sorrowful tale. He tried to find words of comfort for 
a grief so much like his own, and taking her by the hand, 
raised the girl from her recumbent position ; but hunger and 
sorrow had worn out her strength, and she fell senseless. 
The humane flute-player was not far from home ; taking 
Gellia in his arms, he carried her into the house, and having 
succeeded in reviving her, ofiered her some food and gave up 
to her the litttle room he occupied. 

At the end of the year, Misitius and Grellia went to the 
Pretor and made a public declaration that they were united 
by simple usage ^ an easy but legal form of marriage, the 
validity of which was never brought in question. The poor 
people knew no other mode of legitimate union ; the wealthy 
alone could afibrd to claim the expensive and solemn forms of 
confarreation and coemption. 

No married pair were more dissimilar in disposition, 
although closely united by mutual affection. 

Gellia was quick tempered and thoughtless ; Misitius was 
slow and vacilating, except when his imagination was seduced 
by fanciful appearances, for then he seized these illusions 
with childish eagerness, and clung to them with all the obsti- 
nacy of conviction. Gellia was superstitious; Misitius, 
iniated into the secrets of the temple, despised the vain sci- 
ence of the priests, and laughed at the faith put in the 
oracles. Gellia was impatient and capricious ; Misitius kind 
and simple Gellia’s mother had brought her up in luxury, 
and developed her coquetry ; Misitius had learned from his 
mother to be contented with little, Whilst Gellia had but 
very vague desires of wealth, Misitius fed his mind on the 
most ambitious hopes, not for himself, but for Gellia, who 
frequently made thoughtless remarks about the happiness of 
the rich. 

These two young people suited each other precisely, because 
they differed so completely, each having the qualities or 
defects which were wanting in the other. Everybody liked 
them ; the neighbors compared Gellia to Caia, the Roman 
heroine of marriage ; they said that Misitius loved her as 
Philemon loved Beaucis, and the Parcae should cut their 


228 


AURELIA; OR, 


thread of life on the same day. Alas ! these kind wishes 
were not written in the book of Fate. 

One evening, a stranger called and had a long conversation 
with Misitius. From that time, Grellia’s husband was a 
changed man. We must explain in a few words how this 
was brought about. 

The senators and others implicated in the conspiracy wanted 
a trustworthy agent in Rome, who would be their means of 
communicating with the Oeneral commanding the army in 
Germany. 

This agent should be so obscure as not to attract attention, 
and yet so compromised as to give assurance of his fidelity. 
The King of the Sacrifices^ who was connected with the plot, 
recommended his fiute-player, Misitius. 

The vanity and secret aspirations of the unfortunate tibi- 
cine made him an easy prey. A considerable sura of money 
was paid him and he was promised the rank of Martial-Fla- 
mine. Besides, the general was in direct communication 
with him, and apparently, at least, depended on him for all 
necessary information and for the signal of action. It is true 
that Misitius did not know the names of the conspirators ; that 
he was but an intermediary, placed between two points, one 
luminous and tangible — Lucius Antonius, whom he knew ; 
the other — the conspirators, surrounded by impenetrable 
darkness. But the fiute-player believed himself the true head 
and prime mover of the conspiracy. He devoted himself, 
body and soul, to his secret task. 

AVeknow what followed, and how Gellia innocently betrayed 
her husband. The poor little woman now wept over the 
consequences of her imprudence ; Misitius was thinking how 
he should save Gellia and save himself. They remained 
until night plunged into this intolerable anguish, and trem- 
bling at every noise. 

Suddenly, a knock was heard at the door. Gellia hesita- 
ted. The knock was repeated, and a voice cried : 

“ From the Archigallus I” 

“ Ah !” said Gellia, “ I remember he promised to come to 
our assistance ere the day ended.’’ And she hastened to 
open the door. 

Apollo’s messenger entered, and said simply to Misitius : 
“ Follow me.” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


229 


Is it the Archigallus who sends you?” asked the flute- 
player. 

‘ ‘ The \rehigallus wishes to see you concerning the writ- 
ing your wife gave him this morning.” 

“I am ready,” said Misitius, somewhat comforted by the 
thought that the Archigallus still had the proclamation in his 
possession. 

Gellia felt confident. She told him as she kissed him 
good-by : ^ 

“ You will see that Apollo did not deceive me.” 

Misitius had not walked very far when three men rushed 
upon him, threw him down, and securely tied his hands. 
The messenger then gave the order to proceed. 

Where are you taking me?” asked Misitius. 

“ You will soon know,” replied the stranger. 

They walked on silently, down the deserted streets^ and 
reaching the Tiber, crossed the Palatine bridge. They were 
then going to Regulus’ house ? Doubtless, the Archigallus 
had betrayed Gellia’s confidence. 

“I am lost,” thought the unfortunate Misitius, as the 
truth broke upon him. ‘ ‘ May the gods grant, at least, that 
I may protect Gellia.” 

The tibicine was introduced into the exedra where we have 
witnessed the interview between the wily lawyer and poor old 
Cecilius. Regulus was seated at a table upon which were 
placed conspicuously a bronze bust of Domitian and a pile of 
gold. 

“ You see,” said he when he was alone with Misitius — and 
he unrolled the copy of the proclamation, “that you are 
discovered. It would be useless to deny. . . Who is the 
author of this ?” 

And without waiting for an answer, he added, pointing at 
the pile of sestertii : 

“ You have the choice. . . This or the Emperor. . . do 
you understand me ?” 

Misitius made signs that he comprehended the informePs 
meaning. The money meant shame ; the tibicine would not 
sell himself. The Emperor — that was death. Misitius did 
not want to die. He was thinking of Gellia. 

“ No pay !” he said resolutely to Regulus. “ No money, 
but a guarantee.” 

20 


230 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ Of what nature?” 

'‘\Yrite an acknowledgement that I have divulged the plot 
voluntarily. Otherwise you will know nothing.” 

“Not had!” remarked the informer, as he proceeded to 
write the acknowledgement. “ You are a cunning fellow. 
Now,” he added, as he handed him the paper, “ what are the 
names ?” 

“ Lucius Antonius,” said the tibicine, after reading the 
document and securing it under his tunic. 

“What! Lucius Antonius, the General of the army of 
Germany !” exclaimed Regulus. “ It is then a rebellion ?” 

“ Yes,” said Misitius. 

, “ Who are his accomplices in Rome ?” 

“ I do not know,” replied Misitius ; and he explained his 
singular position as the agent of an unknown body. 

“ This is a skillful arrangement,” remarked Regulus ; “ in 
this way one may conspire without danger. But we shall 
manage to find them out. However, ho\^ -do I Lnow that 
you tell the truth about this revolt ? I must have a proof.” - 

“ You will have one to-morrow night.” 

‘ ‘ How is that ?” 

“ If you will be at the twelfth hour on the Flaminia way, 
near Garden-hill. A courier from Germany will bring me 
dispatches.” 

“ I shall be there,” exclaimed Regulus. 

“ Am I free to go?” asked Misitius. 

“Entirely so. Good-by till to-morrow night.” 

“ Good-by, my lord, till to-morrow night.” 

An hour later, Misitius was in Gellia’s arms. 

“ We are saved,” he said to her, “ but your Archigallus is 
an infamous rascal ! He had betrayed n^e to Regulus. . . . 
Finding it impossible to deny, I have been compelled to avow 
all. . . Take good care of this declaration signed by Regu- 
lus. . . Who knows but we may want it at some later day ?” 

On the following night, Regulus, concealed on the Fla- 
minia way, received from Misitius the package of dispatches 
from Germany. With what joyful surprise the wretch dis- 
covered, amidst those important documents, the letter written 
by -Metellus Celer to the Grand-Vestal, which, while it gave 
a proof of their intimacy, revealed, moreover, the object of 
Antonius’ conspiracy. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


231 


Ah 1” said Kegulus, smiling, “the gods protect me! 
This letter gives me a new hold upon the Vestal and those 
Christians who might have escaped. The Emperor may send 
for me, now, . . I no longer fear having to remain silent 
before his anger I” 

We have seen that Domitian sent for Regulus, and what 
use the latter made of the documents received from Misitius. 
We shall now seek Gurges, whom we have left much embar- 
rassed with Metellus Celer’s letter, which he had undertaken 
to deliver to Cornelia. 


CHAPTEK IX. 


THE FUNERAL OF A CHRISTIAN VIRGIN. 

HEN perchance an idea saw the light in the brain of 



vv our friend Gurges, one could affirm that it was an 
original and remarkable idea. Here is the reasoning by which 
Gurges got rid of his dilemma. 

“ If,” he thought, “ I get Cecilia to carry this papyrus to 
the Grand-Vestal, I plunge her anew in the greatest dangers. . . 
Now, I love Cecilia too much, notwithstanding that she is the 

wife of Olinthus, to expose her again to persecution 

What shall I do ?” 

Here, Gurges paused and scratched his head. 

“ Ah !” he suddenly exclaimed, “ I’ve got it! . . . Yes, 
that’s it! . . . I like this pontiff of the Christians ! I have 
seen him at work ! . . . It seemed to me that he felt an 
interest in the Grand- Vestal. . . There is besides in this 
letter something that concerns the young Cassars, to whom 
he is said to be related. Suppose I were to intrust him with 
this delicate mission ? ...” 

Upon this, Gurges, who seldom wasted much time in reflec- 
tion, cut a joyful caper, and called aloud to his vespillos, who 
presented themselves forthwith, bearing torches. 

“ Forward to the Capena-gate,” cried Gurges. 

Two men preceded him to light the way, and the party set 
out briskly- They passed the Capena-gate, and entered the 
Appian way, which they were to follow some distance to 
reach the ancient grove of the Muses where the wretched 
huts of the Christians were built. 


232 


AURELIA; OR, 


Here, Gurges had a had fright. The torches of an escort 
coming from the opposite direction, suddenly illumed the 
darkness, and in the silence of the night, this challenge 
resounded : 

“Triumvir Capital ! . . . Who goes there 

It was the triumvir, going his rounds who, perceiving the 
light' of torches at this unseasonable hour, had ordered the 
party to be challenged. Now, Gurges had had more than 
once, trouble with the Triumvir capital. In his nocturnal 
expeditions, during the time he was a vespillo, he had often 
been stopped by this chief of the urban police, and searched 
for such prohibited articles as human hair and teeth — spoils 
rol)bed from the grave by the vespillos. But never had the 
encounter caused him so much uneasiness. 

“ If this triumvir proceeds to search my person as usual, 
thought Gurges, with a certain tremor, “ what will become 
of the Grand-Yestal’s letter? . . . What will become of 
me? ” 

The danger became imminent, for the triumvir, obtaining 
no reply, was galloping towards the suspicious party. 

‘ ‘ Who- goes there ?’’ he repeated^ when he was about 
twenty steps from them. 

“ Gurges !’’ replied the son of Tongilianus, almost firmly. 

“ Gurges, the designator?” asked the triumvir. Ah i now 
I understand . . . They are waiting for you over yonder ! 

. . . Pass on ! . . . ” 

Gurges hastened to avail himself of this permission, but 
he could not get over his astonishment at the facility of his 
escape, and at the words spoken by the triumvir, 

“ This triumvir understands,” he muttered, “ that is very 
well! . . . but what is it that he understands? . . . They 
wait for me over yonder 1 , . . That is not likely ! ... By 
Venus-Libitina ! my intellect is at fault . . . Well, never 
mind, that is of no importance ... let us make haste, lest 
this night bird should change his mind.” 

Another cause of astonishment awaited Gurges and his 
men. As they came in sight of the sacred grove of the 
Muses, they perceived that the base of the dark mass scarcely 
visible in the gloom of the night, was illuminated by thousands 
of lights, some stationary and some moving in the direction 
of that part of the woods consecrated to Libitina. 


THE JE^Y8 OF CAP ENA GATE. 


233 


“ What arc those Christians about?” exclaimed Gurges, 
“ that they are not asleep, but wandering out at this late hour, 
with torches . . . Could it be that they really expect me ? . . 
This would be curious ! . . . But let us go on, we will soon 
find out ! . . . ” 

When the party left the Appian way to enter the grove of 
the Muses, they were again stopped, with the challenge : 
“ Who goes there?” by two Christians, placed as sentries on 
the outskirts of the woods. 

“ Gurges!” replied the designator, in a much firmer tone 
than he had answered the triumvir’s challenge. 

“ You are welcome 1” said the voices. 

“ This is well, what you are doing, Gurges,” said one of 
the Christians, coming forward and grasping the designator’s 
hand . . . “ But we should have expected as much from your 
friendship and devotion . . . Thanks, in the name of our 
brethren . . . You will find them all in tears !” 

“ But, what has happened?” inquired Gurges, completely 
bewildered. “ I cannot understand what you say I . ,. . You 
can know nothing of the business which brings me here.” 

“You ask what has happened?” replied the Christian; 
' ‘ we have lost our mother . . . Petronilla, the sainted 
virgin, fell asleep in the Lord, day before yesterday, and we 
are watching here to welcome the Christians who will attend 
her funeral at day-break ... I thought you had been in- 
formed of this great misfortune . . ” 

“No,” said Gurges, “I had not heard of it . . . Ah I 
Petronilla, the poor old woman whom I loved so much for the 
afiection she bore Cecilia, is dead,” he added, with emotion, 
returning the pressure of the Christian’s hand ... “ This, 

then, is the reason why the triumvir told me I was expected 
here . . Let your mind be easy, everything will be done 
in a suitable manner . . . Only, I should not have been 
advised so late.” 

It was the Christian’s turn to wonder. 

“ Are Olinthus and Cecilia here?” asked Gurges. 

“ They closed Petronilla’s eyes . . . But they returned 
to Borne yesterday, to bring back Flavia Domitilla and our 
other brethren. We are expecting them ...” 

‘ ‘ And the pontiff Clemens ?” inquired Gurges, remem- 
bering the mission he had undertaken, ‘ ‘ is he not here ?” 

20 * 


234 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ Clemens has not left Petronilla . . . He is praying for 
her, at this moment before the altars of the Lord.’^ 

“Very well,” said Gurges. “I shall go and see how 
matters stand, and give my orders without delay.” 

Gurges and his vespillos penetrated into the grove. The 
worthy designator had never done so much thinking as on 
this eventful night. 

“Let us see,” he reasoned, as he walked on, “these 
Christians are poor . . . This is evidently why they did not 
send for me ... I understand this . . . But Gurges loves 
his friends, and the occasion presenting he will prove it . . . 
I liked Petronilla ; I shall take charge of her funeral, and I 
want people to speak of it ! . . . Let us organize the cere- 
mony . . . Pirst, I walk at the head of the cortege with my 
lictors dressed in black, this is understood . . . Next come 
the images of the ancestors . . . Bid Petronilla have any ? 
. . . Ah! yes, one Peter, a very celebrated man, I have 
heard ! . . . Besides, I have in my store rooms any quantity 
of images of ancestors for families . . . Very well! . . . 
We shall want twenty mourners ... I shall see to this! . . 
I sail say a word to the prcejica (*) . . . and they will utter 
lamentable cries ! . . . There will be no lack of relations . . 
I imagine all those Christians will follow Petronilla . . . 
The funeral bed, the pyre ? That’s my lookout . . . Ah ! 
the funeral discourse ? . . . It is rather late to get somebody 
to prepare it . . . But I shall ask the Pontiff Clemens for a 
delay of twenty-four hours to organize my ceremony ! He 
cannot object to this ...” 

The meditations of the designator were interrupted by the 
sound of pure voices ascending to heaven in pious concert. 
Looking up, he stopped in a respectful attitude. The corpse 
wa‘S before him. 

Petronilla, the octogenary virgin was placed in a reclining 
position, on a bed of leaves. Her eyes turned to heaven. 
She was clad in white garments, studded with flowers — em- 
blems of the purity of her life ; a wreath of white roses 
encircled her brow. One would have scarcely realized that 
she was dead, such was the serenity of her features, which 
retained an august expression very different from the rigidity 
of death. Around her burned torches of rosin, emitting an 


♦The woman who acted as chief mourner at funerals. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


235 


aromatic odor, and perfumes that filled the atmosphere with 
their fragrant emanations. 

On each side of the funeral bed was a choir of women and 
young girls who watched, and sung alternately sacred hymns 
or passages from the holy canticles. These were the voices 
Gurges had heard. 

The women sang : 

. “ Blessed be the Lord ! She died in His grace ; the betrothed came ; 

she held her lighted lamp in her hand.” 

The young girls replied ; 

“She has flown to Heaven like the dove of the desert ; her soul is as 
white as the lily in the vale ; no impure breath has tarnished her vir- 
ginal body.” 

And all repeated together, three times : 

“ Glory be to God 1 Glory be to God ! Glory be to God 1” 

The designator looked at these arrangements with a critic’s 
eye, and communicated, in an undertone, to his vespillos his 
condemnation of such things as did not appear to him in 
haymony with the established usages. 

“ Where are the embalmers,” he whispered, “ to wash and 
perfume the body of this respectable matrgn? Where are 
the fasces which should surround that bed ? By-the-by, it 
should have been de^corated with better taste. I don’t see the 
black hangings . . . Nor the cypress trees, clipped into a 
mournful shape, nor the flute-players who should accompany 
these funeral songs. If I had been advised of this, nothing 
would bo wanting in the marks of respect due this old 
Petronilla ...” 

A hand laid on the designator’s shoulder interrupted the 
expression of his regrets. 

“ Ah !” said he, turning round, “ Olinthus and Cecilia! 

Why,” he added reproachfully, "did you not inform 
me of this sad event?” 

" Dear friend,” said Olinthus, " since two days we have 
not left our mother one moment. She passed away in our 
arms ...” 

" Olinthus/’ exclaimed Gurges, "I must take charge of 
the funeral ... I only ask for a few hours delay in order 
to prepare it with becoming solemnity !” 

"Thanks, Gurges, but this cannot be ...” 


236 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ And why not, my dear Olinthus ? . . . Should a friend’s 
services he refused ?” 

“ No, Gurges, hut Lihitina, the goddess of funerals cannot 
preside over the obsequies of a Christian virgin,” replied the 
centurion, with a smile. 

The designator looked shocked. 

“ You, Christians, are very exclusive!” he remarked, dis- 
contentedly. 

“ Gurges! Gurges!” said Olinthus, in a tone of friendly 
reproach, and pressing the worthy designator’s hand. “ Do 
not feel vexed . . . Here comes the pontiff Clemens,” he 
added, pointing at a cortege in the distance, “he will tell 
you, better than I could, the reasons of our refusal.” 

The dawn lighted faintly the sacred grove. The first rays 
of the rising sun tinged with gold the cloudlets on the hori- 
zon. The damp mist of night melted, driven by the morning 
breeze. The loud chirp of the insects mingled with the voices 
of the birds celebrating with joyful songs the return of light. 

Amidst this concert of awakening nature, grave and pious 
voices intonated the sacred canticles ; a long file of men and 
women bearing green palms, approached slowly, and sur- 
rounded the bed upon which rested Petronilla. Each one, 
as he or she passed the foot of the bed, made the sign of the 
cross, and sprinkled the body with the holy water used in 
Christian ceremonies. 

Then, in the rear of these men and women, came the 
Bishop Clemens surrounded by his priests and deacons. The 
pontiff' blessed the crowd who bent their heads reverently. 
Having arrived near the corpse, he sprinkled it three times. 

The time had come for the funeral. 

Olinthus and Cecilia joined the cortege ; they were fol- 
lowed by Flavia Domitilla, and by Flavius Clemens and his 
two sons, who had hastened to pay the last honors to the 
daughter of the chief of the Apostles. They had been de- 
tained in Rome by important cares. During the night, Do- 
mitian’s summons to attend on the next day the examination 
of the sons of David, had been delivered to them. 

Gurges and his vespillos mingled with the crowd. 

“ My brethren,” said the pontiff, addressing the silent 
and collected multitude, “Petronilla is no more. Al- 
mighty God has recalled her to Him. She is in His Taber- 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


237 


nacles, repeating the eternal Hosanna, and singing the praise 
of the Lamb. She awaits ns amidst the just with the Apos- 
tles of Christ, the first martyrs of the faith, the holy virgins 
whom the mysterious Spouse glorifies and consoles. 

‘^Let us rejoice, my brethren, for this day is not a day of 
mourning; let us, also, sing Hosanna, for the Lord has 
manifested in this humble servant His grace and the most 
precious gifts of His love I” 

‘ ‘ Glory be to God ! Glory be to J esus-Christ ! Glory be 
to His elect !” 

The assemblage repeated these three invocations. 

“ My brethren,” continued Clemens, “ the days of perse- 
cution are near ; I feel it in my heart, God has revealed it to 
me by secret warnings. Let us await with peaceful souls the 
hour of trial ; let us bless the Lord if Ho wisheth that we 
should confess His name. 

‘ ‘ I have appointed seven notaries to preserve the names of 
those who shall fall by the sword, in order that the memory 
of their constancy shall not be lost for the encouragement of 
the weak and the imitation of future Christians ; I have pre- 
pared the asylum where the bodies of our martyrs will rest 
until the day of eternal life. 

“We are going to place Petronilla in this first Christian 
field of rest; it was meet and just that Peter’s daughter 
should be the first to enter that asylum which will extend 
one day under the city of Rome like an invisible boulevard, 
and where the bones of our brethren who died for the faith 
of Christ, will be so numerous, that they will serve to make 
the cement of its walls, and the stones of its vaults !” 

“ Glory be to God ! To our Lord Jesus-Christ ! To His 
elect !” 

The assemblage again repeated the joyful words. 

“And now, Christians,” continued the pontiff, “having 
celebrated the holy mysteries, let us lay Petronilla in the 
grave whence her body will arise, impassible and glorious, at 
the consummation of ages. We shall not, as the Gentiles 
do, throw to the winds her ashes gathered from a funeral 
pile ; she will remain among us as a pious memento, as a 
sacred relic — humble and gentle example during her life, 
glorious exhortation after her death !” 

‘ ‘ Amen !” responded the multitude. 


238 


AURELIA; OR, 


The pontiff then took a palm from the hands of one of the 
faithful, and having dipped it into a vase containing water, 
sprinkled a few drops upon the venerable virgin asleep in the 
Lord ; after this he turned around and sprinkled the 
assemblage. 

The sacred dew fell on Gurges aS well as on the other 
assistants. 

“ That’s the lustral water,” whispered the designator to 
his vespillos. “ It is the way to throw it on the relatives and 
friends of the deceased, but this should be done at the end, 
not the beginning of the ceremony. Another mistake ! 
Why did they not let me do it ?” 

The bed of leaves was lifted by twelve young maidens 
dressed in white and crowned with white flowers. Near them 
walked other young girls, also clad in white, and singing 
sacred songs. Next came the women carrying pine torches, 
and lastly the men grouped around the pontiff and his priests 
and joining their deep voices to those of the maidens. 

A young woman, dressed in the deepest mourning, walked 
immediately behind the funeral bed, supported by Flavia 
Domitilla, the Emperor’s niece, and Eutychia, the mother of 
the plebeian centurion. This disconsolate mourner was Ce- 
cilia. The young matron was so overwhelmed by her grief 
that she would have fallen but for the assistance of her two 
friends. 

As for Gurges, he folFowed the cortege at some distance, 
still criticising the arrangements^ but respectful and with un- 
covered head. 

The funeral procession soon reached fhe crypt which was 
to receive Petronilla’s body. Some of the men took the place 
of the young maidens, to lower the body in the grave which 
was lined with a thick layer of laurel leaves. The sainted 
octogenarian was placed on this aromatic bed, with her face 
towards the East ; and the young girls kneeling around the 
grave, threw into it their wreaths and palms. 

Cecilia, still sustained by her two companions, approached 
to deposit also her pious memento. This was the slave’s gar- 
ments she had worn on the day of her emancipation, and with 
which she now wrapped the rigid limbs of the loving friend 
who had received her in her arms on that memorable occasion. 

The songs had ceased. The pontiff sprinkled the body 
once more, and threw upon it a little earth. The women put 


TEE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


239 


out their torches ; the men filed past, each throwing a hand- 
ful of earth upon the body and inclining his head reverently ; 
and soon there was left near the levelled grave hut two 
persons kneeling and weeping together — Olinthus and Cecilia. 

When, at last, they arose to go, Olinthus found himself 
face to face with Grurges. The designator’s eyes were wet 
with tears. 

“ Take me to the pontiff Clemens, my dear Olinthus,” said 
Gurges, “ I must speak to him.” 

“ Come with us,” replied the centurion, too much absorbed 
in his grief to say more. 

Gurges followed silently. When they arrived near the 
pontiff he was inviting Flavius Clemens and the young 
Caesars to join the other Christians in the agapae which fol- 
lowed the funeral ceremonies. 

“ We cannot,” replied Flavius Clemens. “ The Emperor 
has sent for us ; and it will soon be time to go to the palace, 
in obedience to his orders.” 

“ Ah !” thought Gurges, “ if this Consul and those young 
Caesars had seen the letter I have under my tunic . . . how 
quick they would turn their backs upon Domitian I” 

When Flavius and his sons had taken leave of the 
pontiff, Olinthus introduced Gurges to the latter, whom he 
acquainted with the designator’s generous offer. 

“ Thank you, my son,” said the priest, with a smile. “But 
you see we have our rites.” 

“ AVhich are better than ours,” replied quickly Gurges, 
moved by Clemens’ kindness and this name of “ son ” which 
the venerable man had applied to him. “ But, my lord, I 
have called to see you upon a grave matter,” he added, 
“ will you permit me to speak to you privately ?” 

Olinthus left them. The designator then hastened to hand 
Metellus Celer’s letter to the pontiff, saying : 

“ Bead, my lord, this writing which has been in the Em- 
peror’s hand.” 

When the pontiff finished reading, Flavius and his sons 
were still in sight. Clemens saw them ready to step into 
their litters. He made a motion as if to call them back, but 
withheld the cry ready to escape from his lips. 

“No,” he said, thoughtfully, “I must not recall them! 

. . It is better that they should obey Domitian . . . If 


240 


AURELIA; OR, 


they showed the least hesitancy ... if they attempted to 
justify themselves . . . they would be lost ! . . . Let them 
approach the Emperor, ignorant of this accusation . . . 
Their surprise and indignation will only have truer and more 
convincing accents !” 

He turned to Grurges. 

“You say, my son,” he added, “that the Emperor has 
read this letter ? . . . How do you know it ? . . . ” 

The designator narrated briefly what had happened to him. 

“ You have acted right, my son,” said Clemens, “ I shall 
justify your confidence . . . You may rest assured that this 
letter will be handed to the Grand- Vestal. But be silent 
concerning these matters. 

Gurges promised to obey. 

“ My son,” resumed the pontiff, in a solemn tone, and as 
if answering a secret thought, “ God has given me for mis- 
sion to help all who are in danger, to save alike the gen- 
tile and the Christian, the priestess of false divinities as well 
as the virgin consecrated to Christ ... It may happen that 
I shall come to you, one day, as you have come to me . . . 
Will you do then what I shall ask you ?” 

“I swear it I” exclaimed Gurges, with enthusiasm, “at 
any time, in any place, and for anything, I devote myself to 
the pontiff of the Christians ! . . ” 

Gurges could not resist when one appealed to his heart. 

“ Farewell, my son,” said Clemens, with an affectionate 
smile . . . “ We shall doubtless meet again . . . For the 

present my flock require my care.” 

Gurges bid farewell to the pontiff, and having joined his 
vespillos, returned with them to Home. 



THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


241 


CHAPTER X. 

WEALTHY, BEAUTIFUL, GREAT . . . AND UNHAPPY. 

W HILST Domitiau is marching against Lucius Antonius, 
we shall go hack to Cicero’s house, to find the divine 
Aurelia, of whom we had lost sight. 

It was a few days after Cecilia’s emancipation, Aurelia, 
alone in her cubiculum, was reclining on rich, cushions, play- 
ing listlessly with some flowers, which she took from a beau- 
tiful murrhine vase and picked to pieces. The young girl 
was sad and pensive. Some bitter sorrow seemed to weigh 
on her heart. She had sent for her old tutor, and was wait- 
ing with impatience for his arrival. 

From the time when she had thrown herself, weeping, 
into the Grand- Y^estal’s arms, exclaiming : “ Vespasian is"^a 
Christian ! all my hopes of happiness have fled !” this thought 
had not left her mind, and none could have guessed what 
despair had filled her heart when, before the pretor’s tribunal 
she had seen Flavius Clemens and his two sons surrounded 
by the Christians, receiving their homages, and, in return, 
showering marks of sympathy upon these despised people. 

Aurelia abandoned herself to the bitterness of her thoughts 
in the midst of the solitary life led by the Roman women, 
and which is little known in our days. Such a thing as the 
family circle or the pleasures of home was unknown. The 
adRge : Mulier familicE sum et caput et finis est, had neces- 
sarily passed from the laws into the customs, or rather custom 
had introduced it into the law, and this habit of looking upon 
woman as a being left to its own resources, commencing and 
ending in the same person, had destroyed even the meaning 
of natural family ties. 

The words which, in the Roman law or in the ancient 
writers^ expressed the relations established by consanguinity 
between individuals, designated ties very different from those 
known in the present time. With a little attention we dis- 
cover in the writings of the old authors the absolute void of 
a Roman woman’s life, and the forced solitude which sur- 
rounded her. We realize all the frivolity and idleness of 
that existence so forcibly styled mundus muUehris. So, we 
21 


242 


AURELIA; OR, 


might give the list of her numerous garments ; we might say 
which she wore in the morning, which at mid-day when 
visiting the porticoes, and which she reserved for evening 
wear ; we might name the perfumes and cosmetics prepared 
to enhance the brilliancy of her complexion, the essences in 
which she bathed, the jewels with which she loaded her 
fingers, her wrists and ankles. All these things have been 
minutely described. 

We see her plunged in indolence, in the midst of numerous 
slaves always ready to spare her the least exertion ; we follow 
her in her shopping and visiting excursions in the city, and 
gaze with astonishment upon the extravagant splendor of her 
cortege, when she repairs to places of public amusement. 

But it is seldom that we see her surrounded by her family ; 
seldom that she is shown to us enjoying the pure happiness 
of the home circle ; she hardly seems to know the sainted 
affection which unites beings in whose veins the same blood 
courses. 

Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, so proud of her two 
sons whom she called her most precious jewels, presents a 
pure picture seldom reproduced in Homan history. 

The matron, having a husband and children, felt neces- 
sarily some movement around her, but the motherless young 
girl, the orphan, sid juris, was truly alone in the world ; she 
was as lost in the immensity of that city of Borne with its 
three millions inhabitants. Wherever she turned, she saw a 
moral wilderness ; from the uproar of the thousand noises 
which filled the city, not a voice spoke to her soul. 

It is Christianity which has created the intimacy of modern 
relations ; it is religion which peopled the wilderness of the 
ancient world ; it is through the emancipation of woman re- 
stored to her primitive equality with man that the politeness 
of customs was founded ; to religion we owe the charm — un- 
known to ancient civilization — of the pure and respectful 
friendship which transformed society. This thought is not 
new, but it is so true, that it cannot be proclaimed too often. 

Woman, raised in her own eyes, returned to the joys of 
the family, delivered from the cares of loneliness, and now 
honored and loved, is no longer the implacable and blood- 
thirsty being, the monster of cruelty revealed to us by the 
ancient writers. In her house, every one trembled around 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


243 


her. Neither her husband nor her children were shielded 
from her fury. As for her slaves, the atrocities perpetrated 
by the matrons upon those wretched creatures surpassed the 
most cruel inventions of the masters. 

Aurelia was far from resembling these matrons ; not only 
her youth, but the secret tendencies of her heart, the peculiar 
circumstances which had surrounded her infancy, made her 
an exception to the common rule. The Grand-Yestal’s friend- 
ship had developed the child’s affectionate nature ; and, later, 
the pressing lessons of Flavia Domitilla, the example of her 
gentle virtues had implanted in the young maiden’s soul the 
germ of noble thoughts. 

When she returned from the Forum, after Cecilia’s emanci- 
pation, all her relations hastened to thank her for her gen- 
erosity towards an obscure young girl she had returned to a 
father’s embrace. She heard the touching expression of Ce- 
cilia’s gratitude, and promised her her friendship. Vespasian, 
her betrothed, called several times and mingled his loving 
praises with those of her relations ; she conversed with him 
at length . . . and lost all hope ! . . . 

Always in tears ! my dear and august ward,” said Vibius 
Crispus, entering the room suddenly. 

Yes, Vibius, always in tears ! . . . and they will not 
soon cease to flow,” replied Aurelia, sorrowfully, and she 
made sign to her guardian to take a seat near her. ‘ ‘ They 
praise me for having been kind to 4his little Cecilia .... 
but how poorly they reward me I . . . ” 

“ Come, my dear ward,” Vibius asked affectionately, “what 
has happened ?” 

^ * Strange and incredible things, dear guardian . . . You 
suspected Flavia Domitilla and my other relations of being 
Christians . . . But you would not have thought that Ves- 
pasian belongs to that sect !” 

Vibius Crispus bounded with surprise from his seat, and 
repeated like a man who has not heard right or does not 
understand what he has heard ; 

“Vespasian! . . . Your affianced husband . . . the heir 
of the empire . . . is a Christian ? . . . ” 

“ Yes, guardian, it is not a dream . . . it is not a doubt 
. Vespasian himself told me so, here, sitting near me as 
you do now . . . Besides, I knew it already . . . Did you 


244 AURELIA; OR, 

not notice, the other day, that he accompanied the pontiiF of 
the Christians ? . . ” 

And Aurelia, hiding her face in her hands, sobbed bitterly. 

Vibius Crispus walked about the room, plunged in deep 
thought and uttering only incoherent words. He foresaw 
important events and fearful dangers. 

“ He must abandon that impious creed,’^ he said, at last. 

“ He will not abandon it, dear guardian . . . 

“ But he can have the empire only at that price 

“ He will renounce the empire ... he will give me up, 
if needs be ! . . . He told me so ! . . . Yes, he said so ! . . ” 
exclaimed the young girl, no longer weeping, no longer 
crushed under the weight of her sorrow, but standing erect, 
with flashing eyes, and speaking with all the bitterness of 
wounded pride. 

“ Here is what took place between Vespasian and me.’^ 
resumed Aurelia, when she had recovered a little calm. “ As 
I have told you, I had surmised, from certain words of his, 
that Vespasian shared the ideas of Flavia Domitilla, and if I 
had not, what happened in the Forum, where all the Chris- 
tians saluted Flavius Clemens and his two sons as people 
salute only those who share their affections and sentiments, 
could have left me no doubt. I returned home anxious, un- 
easy, not knowing what to hope or fear . . . Yet, as I 
reflected, I felt more tranquil ; I said to myself that I would 
speak to Vespasian, and ask of him the sacrifice of an un- 
reasonable opinion, dangerous to him, threatening to the high 
destinies which await us ... It seemed to me impossible 
that my cousin should refuse ... He would, doubtless, re- 
nounce with joy all other affections for mine ... In a word, 
I still hoped ! 

“ Yesterday, my cousin came here ... I had seen him 
several times since that eventful day in the Forum, but I had 
not been able to converse freely with him . . . He was over- 
joyed ... he showed me the most tender affection . . . He 
pressed my hands in his, saying again that I had been good, 
generous, and that he thanked me for it . . . 

“ * Dear Vespasian,^ said I to him, seizing this opportunity, 

‘ what I did for this little Cecilia is very simple. What 
reason have you for beUig so grateful to me V 

“ At this question, Vespasian looked at me with an air of 
great surprise. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


245 


Dear Aurelia,’ said he without hesitation, ‘ do you not 
know with what courage she glorified our Gk>d for the salva- 
tion of our brethren V 

Your God ! . . . your brethren ! . . . dear Vespasian^ 
what means this language ? Have you a God other than 
mine V 

‘ ‘ ‘ Dear cousin,’ replied Vespasian, ‘ are you not aware that 
I am a Christian?’ 

“ ‘ So, you confess it, dear Vespasian.’ I remarked, with an 
involuntary shudder. ^ You are a Christian ! . . . ’ 

“ ‘ Yes, my dear Aurelia, I am a Christian. Flavia Domi- 
4illa who instructed my father and mother in this holy law, 
could not overlook their children . . . ’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! Flavia Domitilla did not forget me either,’ said I, 
ironically . . ‘ By Jupiter! it is not her fault if I am not a 
Jewess also . . . ’ 

“‘Aurelia, Aurelia,’ said Vespasian sadly, ‘why defend 
yourself by invoking Jupiter ? . . No, unfortunately, you 
are not yet a Christian, but you are worthy of becoming one 
. . . And if I believe the voice of my heart, you will be a 
Christian . . . ’ 

‘ ‘ ‘ Enough of this, dear Vespasian ... I do not suppose you 
have lost your mind . . . Come,’ I added, smiling kindly, 

‘ will you grant me what I am going to ask you V 

“ ‘ Yes, dear cousin, provided it is not contrary to my reli- 
gion.’ 

‘ ‘ ‘ Can you style that strange worship a religion ?’ 

“ ‘ It is the only true religion, dear Aurelia . . . ’ 

‘ ‘ ‘ How you say this ! cousin . . . But never mind, you 
must give it up for my sake.’ ” 

Aurelia here interrupted her narrative to address herself to 
Vibius Crispus who, according to his prudent custom, was 
listening attentively without expressing any opinion. 

“You see, guardian,” said she, “ that I put the question 
in the most direct form to my betrothed . . . But I was 
alarmed at the grave and sad expression assumed by his 
countenance.” 

“ ‘ AVhat !’ he exclaimed, ‘ is it my dear Aurelia who makes 
such a request?’ 

“ ‘ Vespasian,’ said I tenderly, ‘ are you not a Caesar ? . . . 
And am I not your betrothed ?’ . . . 

21 * 


246 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ ‘ Aurelia/ he replied impetuously, ‘ do you love me as I 
love you V 

‘ Oh !’ I exclaimed, in a tone of reproach, ‘ can you doubt 
it, dear Vespasian?^ 

“ ‘ Well ! dear cousin, instead of asking me to sacrifice my 
faith, seek to learn the truth, and trample under your feet 
that Jupiter of which you spoke just now . . . ’ 

“ ‘ Vespasian,’ I remarked, much astonished at his words, 
‘ it seems to me we are exchanging our parts ... It is you, 
not I, who should change. Come, give me an answer.’ 

‘ ‘ ‘ Ah ! what answer can I give you ?’ 

“ ‘But, dear Vespasian, think of what will happen . . . 
Flavia Bomitilla has caused our loss I’ 

“■ ‘ Oh !’ said Vespasian, ‘ I see what it is that disturbs you ! 
^ . .You think that I cannot be a Christian and remain a 
Cassar . . . But what does it matter ! . . . ’ 

‘ ‘ ‘ How what does it matter ? ... In fact you must be one 
or the other . . . ’ 

“ ‘I shall remain a Christian . . . ’ 

“ ‘ Indeed ! Vespasian,’ I exclaimed in a tone of doubt, ‘ do 
you speak seriously ? . . . ’ 

“ ‘ Quite seriously, and with joy, dear cousin.’ 

“ ‘ And would you feel that joy also, if you knew that your 
betrothed cannot become your wife V 

“ ‘ You are cruel, my dear Aurelia.’ 

The young girl paused again, to interrogate her guardian’s 
face. Vibius remained impassible. She suppressed a sigh 
and resumed : 

‘ ‘ I had spoken so excitedly that I felt alarmed at the 
cold resolution which marked Vespasian’s answers. But 
there was so much feeling in the manner in which he aecused 
me of cruelty, and so much tenderness in the glance he gave 
me, that I felt sure of victory. I approached nearer to him ; 
he took my hands and pressed them, calling me by the most 
endearing names. 

“ ‘ Vespasian,’ I whispered, ‘ it is not I who would aban- 
don you . . . believe this, at least.’ 

“ ‘ I know it, dear Aurelia ... I have never doubted 
your heart.’ 

‘ ‘ He said this again with great tenderness, with caressing 
words,” continued the young girl, and tears suffused her 
eyes. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


247 


“‘But, Vespasian,’ I added timidly, ‘they may sepa- 
rate us.’ 

“ ‘It would he a dreadful sacrifice ! , . 

“‘You said a sacrifice!’ I cried trembling, ‘who then 
would you sacrifice ?’ 

‘ ‘ ‘ Why this question ? dear cousin ?’ 

“ ‘ Vespasian, you do not love me ! . . . It needs but one 
word .... a single word 1 . . . . And you will not 
speak it!’ 

“Oh! guardian I wept bitterly, for from that time I saw 
that all was over. But I did not think that my betrothed 
would have had the courage to go still further. 

“ He was there before me . . . gazing sadly at me . . . 
his eyes filled with tears. . . He scarcely dared to speak, 
and yet I could see on his face a secret calm, the same air of 
firm resolve that had caused me so much anxiety.” 

“ ‘ Dear Aurelia,’ said he at last, ‘ if I were asked to give 
up my life, it would be easier.’ 

“ ‘ Your life ! Vespasian ... I am then nothing to 
you? . . .” 

“ ‘ You are everything to me !’ he exclaimed in the same 
loving accents . . . for he loves me, I cannot doubt ! ‘But,’ 
he added solemnly, ‘ I cannot prefer you to my God.’ 

“ Oh! guardian,” continued the divine Aurelia, “ when I 
heard these words . . . I do not know what took place in 
me . . . but this was too much. . . I felt faint and giddy, 
and I fell. . . I saw Vespasian spring forward and catch 
me in his arms. . . He called loudly to my women. . . Then, 
I saw nothing more. . . I heard nothing. . . I was 
senseless. . When I recovered my senses, I was lying on 
this couch, surrounded by my slaves. . . I looked around 
me. . . Vespasian had disappeared ! . . .” 

The young girl’s voice grew faint as she concluded the 
narrative of this bitter trial ; she struggled against the great 
sorrow that crushed he*. Her eye was no longer proud, but 
veiled by her tears. She looked anxiously at Vibius Crispus 
who, feeling at last that he must say something, murmured 
in a low voice : 

“ Those Christians are all alike. . . Nothing can conquer 
them. . They trample upon everything. . .” 

“Is there no more hope, then, dear guardian?” asked 
Aurelia in beseeching accents. 


248 


AURELIA i OR, 


Vibius Crispus scarcely knew what to say. The selfish 
old courtier could find no balm for this wounded young heart. 
Besides, other thoughts filled his mind. What events would 
result from these facts which he had suspected, and of which 
he was now certain ? The Emperor must soon become aware 
of them . . . and then ? . . . Vibius was afraid ! 

“Dear ward, allow me time to reflect,’’ said he in the 
mnst caressing and afiectionate tone he could assume. “ No, 
all hope is not lost. . . Time will doubtless conquer the young 
Caesar. Your love must certainly triumph. . . But I am 
so much suprised that I don’t know what to advise. Besides, 
nothing can be done at present. We shall see. . . Above 
all, take care that the Emperor hears nothing of this ! . . . 
My dear ward, you may rely on your old guardian ... he 
is entirely devoted to you ! . . .” 

Vibius Crispus continued for some time to ofier such vague 
consolations to that poor wounded soul. But the emptiness 
of his words wearied Aurelia, who felt herself abandoned by 
the awkward and cowardly old egotist, her last resource in 
her loneliness. She made no effort to detain him when he 
rose to go. 

She listened to the noise of his steps on the marble pave- 
ment of the atrium. It grew fainter, then ceased, and silence 
reigned in the vast mansion. 

“Oh! how lonely! how lonely!” exclaimed Aurelia, 
groaning with anguish. “ Who will come to me ?” 

She closed her eyes and remained thus for some time, rapt 
in thought. When at last she looked up, a young girl stood 
near her, contemplating her with tenderness, and afraid to 
disturb her rest. 

Aurelia uttered an almost joyful cry, and sprang into the 
arms of Cecilia, for it was she who thus appeared to Vespa- 
sian’s betrothed as merciful divinity. 



TEE JEWS OF CAPEFA GATE. 


249 


CHAPTER XI. 

AURELIA COMMENTS ON SAINT PAUL. 

A urelia showered caresses on Cecilia. She was happy 
to see this plebeian girl, this Christian slave who owed 
her her freedom. What motives were there not for the proud 
patrician, the betrothed of the Caesar Vespasian, to forget, 
and even to hate this daughter of an humble Tax-gatherer, 
whose name even was unknown to her a few days ago. And 
yet, it was in her gentlest tone of voice that she greeted her : 

“ Cecilia, my little Cecilia, is this you ! . . . What joy 
to see you ! . . . But how did you get here without being 
announced ?” 

■ Cecilia had not seen her noble benefactress since the mem- 
orable scene of the emancipation. She had called to return 
her thanks, accompanied by her father, her Christian friends, 
Flavia Domitilla and Aurelia’s other relations ; but this 
was the first time the two young girls met alone. Cecilia 
wished to express her gratitude more freely, and, at the same 
time, to inform Vespasian’s betrothed of her own marriage 
with Olinthus, which would take place in a few days. 

“ Madam,” said the modest young Christian, confused by 
this affectionate welcome, “ I met your guardian, Vibius 
Crispus, in the atrium, and he brought me here, saying that 
you were very sad. . . 0 my dear and noble mistress, what 

causes your sorrow ?” 

“ It is true, Cecilia, that I am anxious, wearied, unhappy. 
But these are things I cannot speak of, and which do not 
prevent me from loving you. Oh ! how well you did to come 
at this moment ! . . .” 

Aurelia would have felt embarrassed to repeat to the young 
girl the complaints she had confided to Vibius Crispus ; she 
would not have her know the wounds inflicted to her pride 
and her love. She preferred to say nothing of what weighed 
so heavily on her mind. 

“ Cecilia,” she asked with a smile, “ are you content now 
that you have no longer to fear that dreadful Parmenon ? 
Tell me, what has become of you ?” 

“ Madam,” said Cecilia, and her eyes beamed with grati- 
tude, “ my life will not be long enough to love you and bless 


250 


AURELIA; OR, 


you as I should. . . My happiness will soon now he com- 
plete. Our brethren are preparing my marriage with 
Olinthus.” 

“ You are going to marry exclaimed Aurelia painfully, 
carried back by this news to her own heart troubles. “ Ah ! 
I remember, Olinthus was your betrothed, and there is no 
obstacle between you ! . . . And how will your wedding 
be ? I hope my little Cecilia will become a matron by con- 
farreationP 

“Oh! madam,’’ said Cecilia, smiling, “we, Christians, 
know nothing of those forms. We have our own. . . It is 
at the foot of the altar, after the oblation of the sacrifice, that 
we will be united before the pontiff who will bless us.” 

“ Tell me, Cecilia,” asked Aurelia with a certain anxiety, 

‘ ‘ do the Christians about to marry love each other dearly ?” 

“ Doubtless, madam,” replied the young girl, astonished 
at this strange question. ‘ ‘ AVhy should they not love each 
other ? It is their first duty according to our law.” 

Ah ! your law says this ?” 

“Why, yes, madam. . . The husband is flesh of his 
wife, the wife flesh of her husband ; the two make but one. . . 
The husband must love his wife like unto himself, and the 
wife must have the same affection for her husband. . . This 
is what is written. . . Moreover, my dear mistress, you can 
see for yourself,” added Cecilia, handing Aurelia some sheets 
of papyrus, which the young patrician took and read with 
eager curiosity. 

It was St. Paul’s epistle to the Ephesians on the duties of 
marriage. 

“ Madam,” continued Cecilia, whilst Aurelia was reading 
those precepts of Christian union^ “ I have learned very lit- 
tle, as yet, for it is not very long since I embraced this holy 
religion. They have put into my hands the books which will 
teach me what I must be in my new position. He who wrote 
this epistle was a great apostle. . . Among us, his word is 
looked upon as the teaching of God.” 

“ Cecilia, what is the meaning of this passage : ‘ This is 
why the man will leave his father and mother, and shall be 
joined unto his wife V ” 

‘ ‘ This is said to show that the husband and wife must 
mutually prefer each other to all that they hold dearest in the 
world.” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


251 


“ And, consequently, that they must never abandon each 
other,’^ said Aurelia, continuing the interpretation. ‘ ‘ It seems 
to me I do not mistake 

“No, madam, you say truly. Marriage among the 
Christians admits of no division in our affection, and it remains 
thus until ended by death.” 

‘ ‘ So, you would never consent to leave Olinthus ?” 

Cecilia paused before she answered this singular question, 
and gazed wih surprise at Aurelia. The tremulous voice 
and anxious face of the young patrician left no doubt as to 
the great interest she felt in this inquiry. 

Cecilia reflected that her kind young benefactress had per- 
haps conceived some project concerning her establishment, 
and was about to ask her to renounce Olinthus. She replied 
with great firmness : 

“ Olinthus and I are only betrothed, madam, and these 
rules do not as yet apply entirely to us. . . But we have 
chosen each other. . . I have given him my heart. . . I 
look upon him already as my husband . . . and for no motive 
would I sacrifice an affection in which I have placed my hap- 
piness.” 

“You said for no motive, did you not, my little Cecilia?” 
repeated Aurelia, evidently delighted by this answer. 

“Yes, madam,” replied Cecilia in the same earnest and 
solemn tone. “ Even to save my life I would not renounce 
Olinthus !” 

Aurelia felt like kissing the artless young girl again, for 
the pleasure this clearly expressed resolve gave her ; but 
she was impatient to come to the question which interested 
her personally. 

“I suppose,” she resumed, “that you had to choose 
between Olinthus and your religion .... what would 
you do ?” 

“ Oh ! this a different thing,” replied Cecilia quickly. 

“ How ! another thing?” cried Aurelia. “ Does not your 
law forbid the husband to abandon his wife, and the wife her 
husband? . . . Suppose you were already married, would 
you give up Olinthus ?” 

“Certainly, madam, if to keep Olinthus I had to renounce 
Crod. God is above Olinthus, and our law teaches us to 
sacrifice everything for him.” 


252 


AURELIA: OR. 


“ Cecilia, wliat you say is impossible! . . . You would 
not do it ! . . 

“ I have done it, my dear mistress,” said the young girl, 
with touching simplicity, for if she could not understand the 
object of all these questions, she saw the opportunity of giv- 
ing the questioner a great lesson in Christianity. 

“You have done it ! . . . When? ...” exclaimed 
Aurelia, much astonished. 

“ When I was in Parmenon’s hands. With one word I 
could have obtained my freedom, and, with it, Olinthus. I 
did not speak that word, for it would have been betraying 
my God and my brethren ! . . .” 

“ It is true,” murmured Aurelia, “yes, it is true I . . . 
Vespasian would have the same strength! ... Oh! I must 
lose all hope ! . . .” 

Her sobs choked further utterance. Cecilia had shown 
her the greatness of a Christian soul often struggling with 
the dearest sentiments and conquering them by the holy 
austerity of duty. Cecilia, like her, was young, and loved 
with a pure and fervent affection, and yet she had sacrificed 
everything, her happiness — dearer than life itself; and Aure- 
lia remembered the bleeding scars left on the poor girl’s 
delicate shoulders by the torturer’s lash — touching proofs of 
her constancy. 

Here was a great example for the young patrician ; but it 
overwhelmed her, for she felt now that Vespasian must also 
prefer his God to her love ; she had read in his eyes the sad 
firmness and calm resolve of a Christian who will not com- 
promise with his faith. The poor child commence to under- 
stand the law of duty. 

Cecilia had seen the tears of the noble young girl, and she 
understood at once why they flowed. She clasped in her 
arms the daughter of the Caesars, and wept silently with her. 
It was a touching picture ! 

“Cecilia! .... Cecilia,” sobbed the young patrician, 

‘ ‘ this sorrow will kill me !” 

“My beloved mistress, can the Caesar Vespasian perjure 
himself?” 

“ So, Vespasian would renounce the empire? . . . Even 
I would be nothing to him ! . . .” 

“ But why suppose that the Caesar will have to undergo 
this trial. . . Does any one threaten him ?” 


THE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


253 


“No, but this may happen sooner or later. It is this 
which frightens me since I know that he is a Christian . . . 
and then ? . . 

Cecilm lavished her tender caresses upon the afflicted young 
girl, but hesitated to answer those pressing questions. 

“ Tell me,” resumed Aurelia, “would Olinthus have such 
contempt for your love ?” 

“ Madam,” replied Cecilia with much feeling, “ I would, 
if it need be, soften the pain of Olinthus’ sacrifice, by 
encouraging him myself. . .” 

“ Oh !” exclaimed Aurelia, “ and you say that you love 
your betrothed !” 

“It is because I love him that I would prefer his happiness 
to mine 1” 

‘ ‘ What do you mean ? . . . His happiness ?” 

“ Our God, my dear mistress, may sometimes impose upon 
us painful duties, but He rewards us a hundred-fold for what 
we suffer in his name ! This is what makes our strength.” 

“ My cousin, Flavia Domitilla, told me this already. She 
even added that the imperial power is nothing. . .” 

“ Nor life, even, my dear mistress,” said Cecilia, inter- 
rupting her with affectionate respect. 

Aurelia hung down her head, and remained silent. The 
bright example of Christian fortitude presented by Cecilia, 
could not fail to make a deep impression upon the young 
patrician’s mind. Aurelia abandoned herself involuntarily 
to the charm of this grateful affection which gradually opened 
her heart to resignation and hope. 

At that period, moreover, Christianity, like unto the morn- 
ing flower still wet with the dew of the night, and impregna- 
ted with its fragrance, filled the soul with its penetrating per- 
fume ; it often happened that from a single word, an example, 
a thought, sown in that soil already prepared by mysterious 
aspirations, faith sprang forth, to grow and blossom suddenly 
under a divine breath. 

And who more than the young patrician had felt the genial 
warmth of this Christian atmosphere with which she was, so 
to speak, surrounded ? Nevertheless, a single day was 
not sufficient to conquer these vacillations of a rebellious 
heart, or to temper this great sorrow, breaking forth in loud 
groans. 


254 


AURELIA; OR, 


The two young girls remained a long while together. 
When Cecilia took leave of Aurelia, the latter no longer felt 
the bitter despondency which had followed her guardian’s 
departure. She had now a loving heart to sympathize with 
and console her. 

Cecilia’s marriage did not make her renounce the work of 
love and gratitude she had undertaken. She pursued it with 
indefatigable devotion, and her gentle words, her modest 
virtues and great faith, had a blissful influenc® on the mind 
and heart of the young pagan whose soul she wished to save. 


CHAPTER XII. 

TUE ATRIUM REGIUM. 

I N the eighth region of Rome, at the base of Mount Pala- 
tine, between the New- Way, the Yiscus-Tuscus and the 
Forum, was an ancient temple of circular form, and built at 
the end of a court surrounded by porticoes. Near by was a 
sacred grove inclosed by high walls. 

This temple was erected by Numa Pompilius, who conse- 
crated it to Vesta, the goddess of earth and fire, and who 
built his house, a small and humble structure, near this 
sanctuary. At the time we speak of, the deity alone dwelt 
in it, with the priestesses having charge of its altars. The 
Atrium Regium or Regia JSfumce was still venerated by the 
Romans as the inviolate residence of the pious king to whom 
they owed a worship which survived all other institutions. 

Numa had instituted but four vestals ; Servius Tullius or 
Tarquin-the-Elder raised this number to six. During the 
eleven hundred years this institution lasted, that is, to the 
time of Theodosius-the-Great, who is said to have abolished 
it (A. D. 389) {his number never varied. 

Everything connected with the worship of Vesta was sym- 
bolic, from the temple in which the sacred fire was kept 
continually burning, to the obligations of the priestesses. 
The shape of the temple was round — image of the earth of 
which Vesta was the divinity ; the priestesses must be virgins, 
because fire, the principle of heat which animates the world. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


255 


is naturally sterile. No image retraced Vesta’s features; fire 
alone represented her in her temple. 

With a little attention we find in the traditions of ancient 
religions the distinction which Christianity has made so great 
between spirit and matter. 

If the material fire burning on Vesta’s altars, happened to 
go out, it was a misfortune so great that Rome feared the 
most fearful events. The negligent priestess was punished 
with the rigorous torture of the lash. 

But, if the Vestal permitted the flame of purity which 
should burn in her virgin heart until her youth had flown, 
to die out, Rome was no longer Rome, but an immense 
necropolis, plunged into a lifeless consternation, and which 
revived to hope only when the crime had received its pun- 
ishment. 

And this punishment was not merely the dread penalty 
of the lash ; the guilty priestess was buried alive ! 

Those two emblems, fire and the earth, cannot grow old. 
It was proper then that the virgins of Vesta and the sacred 
fire should remain forever young. For this it was that the 
fire which lost some of its purity by coming in contact with 
material fuel, was rekindled each year, on the March Kalends, 
that is on the day upon which the year formerly commenced, 
and time renewed its imperishable youth. 

For this, also, the priestesses of Vesta upon reaching their 
thirty-sixth or fortieth year — extreme limit of their sacrifice, 
were made to turn over their ministry to younger successors, 
in whose hands the divine flame, image of Vesta’s inalterable 
chastity would burn more brightly. 

Let us penetrate into the sacred asylum whose thick walls 
have ever awakened the curiosity of man. Paganism knew 
nothing of the austere practices which have made the cloister 
inaccessible. 

Women could visit the Vestals at all hours, The men 
were not excluded, but they must retire before nightfall. 
The public had access to that part of the temple where the 
sacred fire was closely watched and fed by a vestal. The 
inner part of the sanctuary was closed to all except the Grand- 
Vestal and the pontifis. There were kept the images of the 
tutelary Gods of the Romans ; and among others a Palladium ^ 
or statue of Pallas. *"111011 was attached the safety of the, 
empire 


256 


AURELIA; OR, 


The costume of the Vestals was the most graceful that could 
be worn by a young girl. It consisted in a long stole of the 
finest linen^ descending to the feet; and, over this, a short, 
white tunic, reaching a little below the waist. Their hair 
was plaited into six braids and tied up with narrow bands ; 
over this was placed the suffihulum, a square veil of large 
dimension, which fell gracefully over the neck and shoulders. 
A few more bands in her hair, and a wider belt of purple than 
that worn by her companions, were the only distinctive marks 
of the Grand-Vestal. 

Nothing had been neglected to make of the Atrium Regium 
a delightful retreat, a quiet asylum where the soul might recol- 
lect itself in silence and repose. Every luxury was lavished 
here, so that the Vestals would have nothing to regret of 
worldly pleasures. The worship claimed at their pure hands 
by the goddess, has no exacting duties; provided the fire 
burns always brightly on her altar, Vesta smiles, and demands 
no other homage. 

What care could trouble the serene life of these spoilt chil- 
dren of the State, whose every desire was gratified as soon as 
conceived ? The State made the most liberal provision for 
the enormous expense of their household ; it paid for the 
numerous eunuchs, the attentive slaves that filled the Atrium 
Regium ; the soft litters at which the wealthiest Koman girls 
cast envious looks ; the magnificent cars which caused secret 
spite to the aristocratic matrons, as they rolled past them. In 
addition to these privileges of the most respected institution, 
each Vestal received a considerable income. How happy 
this life then, in which were to be found combined all the 
pleasures of wealth and rank — all that could flatter the vanity 
of young girls ! 

And yet, when a Vestal died, or resigned her ofl&ce after 
the legal term ; when Vesta claimed another virgin to fill the 
vacant place in her sanctuary ; why was it that consternation 
reigned in Rome, and every family was alarmed at the mere 
thought of a daughter being conducted to the Atrium Regium 
to enjoy the life of ease and comfort we have attempted to 
describe ? 

Here is the reason of this universal horror : v 

In the sixth region of Rome (^Alta >SemiVa,) was a field, 
the mere name of which inspired terror. It was called Cam- 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


257 


pus Sceleratus; which maybe rendered by “The Field of 
Crime.” No human habitation was to be found near this 
cursed spot ; no footstep ever disturbed its awful silence and 
eternal solitude. It seemed as if nature itself shared in this 
gloom. The humblest grass could not grow on this soil which 
seemed condemned to a fearful barrenness. The dew fell 
not upon the least green tuft ; all was dark, naked, desolate. 

This sinister spot formed a slight eminence close by the 
walls of Rome, beyond the Agger Servius, from which it 
could be plainly seen. Neither the magnificence of the Atrium 
Regium, nor the honors paid to their rank could make the 
Vestals lose sight of this fatal spot hid in the shadow of the 
monuments of the queen of the world. Their mournful gaze 
ever sought the unhallowed mound where so many of their 
companions had found the most horrible and cruel death. 

In this field, the priestesses convicted of incest, that is to 
say, of having sinned against the immaculate purity imposed 
upon them from childhood, suffered the extreme penalty for 
their crime. 

From time immemorial there existed in the centre of the 
Campus Sceleratus, a deep subterranean vault, whose thick 
walls smothered the last groans of the victims entombed alive-in 
it. The opening of the shaft through which one descended by 
means of a ladder, was closed with a wide slab cemented in 
masonry and covered with earth, so that the eye could not detect 
its existence. 

When a new victim was designated, this slab was dug up ; 
the executioner descended into the pit, cleaned the vault of 
the ghastly relics of the last sufferer, and made it ready to 
receive another inmate. A small bed was erected in an angle 
of the vault ; near it were placed a lighted lamp, and small 
quantities of bread, water and milk — provisions for one day, 
which a derisive pity granted to the wretch about to descend 
alive in the tomb. 

It is true that the instances of this fearful punishment were 
rare ; but what young girl would select a life whose joys 
might end in so terrible a death ? The virgins of the Atrium 
Regium had good cause to tremble when the vaguest facts, 
the least founded suspicions often sufficed to determine the 
inflexible severity of the pontiffs whose office it was to punish 
this crime ? The denunciations of a slave or the confession 
22 * 


258 


AURELIA; OR, 


obtained by torture were a sufficient basis for accusations that 
might lead a Vestal to death, unless heaven interposed in her 
favor, by some miracle. The ancient authors relate several 
instances of this heavenly intervention. The Vestal JEmilia, 
who had permitted the fire confided to her care to burn out, 
and was suspected of a greater crime, tore her linen stole 
and threw the light fabric on the altar, calling upon Vesta, 
whom she had served during thirty years, to manifest her 
innocence. A light flame suddenly consumed the fragment 
of cloth and ascended to heaven. (1) 

Tuccia demonstrated her innocence by carrying water in a 
sieve, from the river to the Forum. (2) In times still more 
remote, Claudia tied her belt to the prow of a ship bearing 
the statue of the Mother of the gods which had made vain 
attempts to cross the bar of the Tiber, and pulled the vessel 
safely into port. (3) 

Paintings representing these miraculous events were placed 
in Vesta’s temple, and the people believed that the goddess 
would not fail to show her power again to save a falsely 
accused virgin; but the young Vestals were not so confiding, 
and the thought of the fearful vault was enough to poison 
their joys. 

At the time we write of^ the virgins who inhabited the 
Atrium Regium were in prey to the gloomiest forebodings. 
During the reigns of Vespasian and Titus, they had enjoyed 
much liberty, and might have believed themselves freed from 
their terrible obligations. But Domitian had soon taught 
them that the yoke of the ancient religion still bore upon 
them ; and the death of the two sisters Ocellates and Varonilla, 
who had recently been compelled to stab themselves, had filled 
their souls with terror. 

They understood, moreover, that the implacable severity 
of the pontiffs threatened them anew, and the suspicions raised 
against the Grand-Vestal led them to think, involuntarily, of 
the dreadful and solemn expiation of the Campus Sceleratus. 

Then, can any condition of life be happy, which has not 
been freely chosen ? To appreciate the sorrow which inevi- 


(1) Denys of Hal. II., 68 : Val. Max., 1, 7. 

(2) Denys of Hal. ibid. 69 ; Val Max. Vlll., 1, 5; Tliny, Nat. Hist., XXVIII. 2. 

(3) Titus Livius; Ovid, Fast. Lib. IV., v 319 to 3:iu, and 343 to 344 : Pliny, 
Nat. His. VII., 35. Suet, in Tiberio, cap 2 ; Valer. Max. VIII., 4. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


259 


tably seized tke Vestals after a few years passed in the tem- 
ple, we must study its action on one who had long suffered 
its pangs. We shall therefore seek the Grand- Vestal, whom 
we find conversing with a young woman to whom she is 
making the picture of her desolate life, and in whose affection 
and sympathy she seeks comfort. 

This young woman, the reader has already surmised, was 
Cecilia ; she was ever to he found associating herself to the 
sufferings of those from whom she received help ; she has- 
tened wherever there were tears to dry and sorrows to alleviate. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Cornelia’s anxieties. 

C ORNELIA, at thirty-five years of age, was still remarka- 
ble for her imposing beauty. The secret anguish that 
embittered her life had not altered the original splendor of 
her features or the graceful distinction of her figure. The 
only mark left by time or suffering was a pallor of complexion 
which detracted nothing from her beauty. Her large eyes, 
in which shone her patrician pride, assumed at times a gentle 
expression which contrasted strangely with her austere phy- 
siognomy. 

Ordinarily reserved, cold and sad, she could become cheer- 
ful and sympathetic when a word or a deed awakened the 
gentle and charming virtues which slumbered in her soul. 

The Grand- Vestal belonged to the greatest family of 
republican or imperial Rome ; to the Cornelian family, whose 
numerous branches had been illustrated, at all periods, by the 
highest dignities and most celebrated names of Roman history. 
The splendor of this race threw in the shade the recent great- 
ness of the imperial house founded by Vespasian and Titus. 
Cornelia’s father was Cossus Cornelius Lentullus, who was 
Nero’s colleague in the latter’s fourth consulate, (A. H. 60;) 
Cornelius Cossus, who was consul with Asinius Agrippa in 
A. H. 25, was her uncle. 

These details will not be unnecessary to explain the Grand- 
Vestal’s position towards Metellus Celer, and their tender 


260 


AURELIA; OR, 


and mutual attachment. Gratitude for a great service ren- 
dered had established between them a friendly intercourse 
from which had gradually grown a more passionate sentiment. 
The Grand- Vestal had been led to love with all the warmth of 
a virgin heart, the man she had saved from death, and whose 
gratitude expressed itself with glowing eloquence. She was 
sustained by a secret hope : the time was approaching when, 
relieved of her vows, she might think of a marriage which 
would secure her happiness. 

But, had she inspired Metellus with the same tender pas- 
sion ? would his devotion overcome the religious prejudices 
which looked upon the vestals as preserving their sacred 
character even after they had been legally relieved of all their , 
obligations ? Such was the mystery which Cornelia had not 
yet been able to penetrate, for Metellus Celer, while he sur- 
rounded her with visible marks of alfection, had never 
betrayed, by a single word, the secret of his heart. 

This word, so anxiously expected, had been written by 
Metellus in the dangerous letter intercepted by Marcus Reg- 
ulus, and by him handed to the Emperor; but the Grand- 
Vestal knew nothing of the existence of this letter which, as 
we have seen, had singularly found its way to the hands of 
the Christian pontiff. 

We must explain here how Cecilia had become the means 
of communication between the two lovers. During her stay 
in Aurelia’s house, the Grand-Vestal had conceived for the 
young Christian’s courage an admiration which soon changed 
into a sincere affection ; and when she returned to the Atrium 
she insisted upon Cecilia’s visiting her often. The 
latter consented willingly, but waited until her marriage with 
Olinthus should be celebrated before calling on the priestess 
of Vesta. When she entered iha Atrium Regium iov the 
first time she brought with her a great joy. 

The day before a messenger had brought her a letter from 
Metellus Celer for Cornelia. The latter had not heard from 
the young man since his departure from Rome ; she did not 
even know where he was concealed. His letter contained all 
these details, so full of interest for the Grand-Vestal, and 
announced that he would write frequently to charm the cares 
of his solitary life. 

Cecilia saw in this correspondence nothing more than the 
language of a grateful heart. Had she thought otherwise, 


TUB JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


261 


she would have, doubtless, refused to take charge of letters 
which awakened hopes condemned by the pious austerity of 
Christian morals, and which were fraught with danger when 
entertained by a priestess of Vesta. 

^ Albeit, the Grand- Vestal found a singular pleasure in Ce- 
cilia’s conversation. Several motives revived continually the 
interest and sympathy by which she felt drawn towards the 
humble young matron who had given such an example of 
generosity and greatness of soul. 

Cornelia preserved a vivid remembrance of the compassion 
shown her by the pontiff Clemens, when he had met her at 
Aurelia’s house, still crushed under the shameful punishment 
inflicted by Helvius Agrippa, for having allowed the sacfed 
Are to burn out. The words of the pontiff of the Christians 
had made a d4)ep impression on her mind ; and she could not 
forget the look of pity which accompanied the priest’s con- 
dolence for the victim condemned by a barbarous creed to an 
immolation imposed by force and perpetuated by terror. 

The Grand-Vestal felt a longing desire to know better the 
religion she had often heard assailed, but which had appeared 
so beautiful to her as described by the eloquent voice of the 
chief of the Christians. 

Chastity was also one of the virtues of this new creed ; 
Clemens had celebrated it in two magnificent epistles which 
the Grand- Vestal, urged by a singular curiosity, had wanted 
to read. She had learned from them that a large number of 
Christian young girls held it a glory to remain the spotless 
brides of the divine Lamb ; but she had not understood the 
figurative sense of these expressions ; from the want of proper 
interpretation, what she had read and heard had left in her 
mind a confusion which she eagerly wished to have un- 
ravelled. 

Who better than Cecilia could dissipate this darkness, sub- 
stitute calmness to this trouble, and satisfy this ardent curi- 
osity? A few conversations with this young woman filled 
Cornelia with astonishment and revealed to her a new field of 
thought. On one occasion she had questioned her on Chris- 
tian celibacy, and asked her if there was any similarity be- 
tween the Vestals and those young girls who, for Christ’s 
sake, condemned themselves to the same duties. 

“ Christ,” replied Cecilia, “ does not demand that we should 


262 


AURELIA, OR, 


select Him for our only spouse ; but when we have made this 
sacrifice, He requires that it should be complete.” 

“In what manner?” asked the Grand-Vestal. 

“ It does not suffice that the chastity of the body should be 
preserved ; but the soul must keep inviolate the ^ plighted 
faith, and its purity must not be soiled even by a sinful de- 
sire.” 

Cornelia remained silent, weighing mentally these simple 
words in which she found the condemnation of her secret 
sentiments. 

“ I can understand,” she remarked at last, “ that a sacri- 
fice freely consented should be made without reservation ; it 
becomes easy when one is not compelled to make it.” 

‘ ‘ God sustains and strengthens the courage of his servants ; 
He fills the heart with immense joy.” 

“ The Vestals know nothing of these consolations of the 
soul,” said the priestess bitterly. “ Nothing has been left 
them but sadness and regret. How can they help cursing 
their obligations?” 

‘ ‘ There is doubtless this great difference between you and 
our virgins,” resumed Cecilia, “ that they bear with joy the 
yoke they have voluntarily accepted, and you submit to a 
necessity which provokes your legitimate complaints. How- 
ever,” she added, smiling, “ the Vestals otherwise resemble 
much our young girls, and it would not be difficult to show 
that their duties are the same and they can find consolation 
in their fulfilment.” 

“ Indeed !” exclaimed the Grand-Vestal, with some irony, 
“ I am curiovs to see how you will prove to me that I am 
happy ?” 

“ Madam,” said Cecilia, “ one of the great precepts of our 
religion is that we must confide in God’s will and submit to 
His designs. He alone disposes of blessings and trials, and 
we must accept what it pleases Him to send us. The most 
perfect among us ask as a favor, to receive sufferings and sor- 
rows rather than joys and happiness ; the others must resign 
themselves up to affliction if Providence so wills it, and this 
resignation soon becomes an immense consolation. You see 
that abnegation may transform our unhappiest condition.” 

“This is all very well, my dear child,” said the Grand- Vestal 
pensively, “ but I am not a Christian, and I have not the re- 
source of your virtues.” 


TUE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


263 


“No, madam, it is true that you are not a Christian, hut 
if virtue is good and may make you happier, why not try 
it ? 

The Grand-Vestal smiled at the amiable young woman’s 
frankness. 

“ My dear child,” she resumed, “ you have told me that 
compulsion is not admitted among you. Has not one the 
right to try to escape from the constraint imposed against 
one’s will ? ... Is not thought free in one who obeys a com- 
pulsory power ? . . . What is your opinion ?” 

Cecilia understood easily the allusion to the Grand- Vestal’s 
own situation. She suspected the secret sentiments which 
had dictated this question whose importance was betrayed by 
the anxiety depicted on the questioner’s features. 

“ Madam,” replied the young woman seriously, “duty, 
whatever be the conditions upon which we assume its fulfil- 
ment, is duty still . . . Voluntary or not, our law forbids its 
violation.” 

Cornelia, startled at these words. She remained silent a 
few moments, collecting her thoughts, and when at last, she 
spoke, her face was bathed with tears. 

‘ ‘ Cecilia,” she exclaimed. ‘ ‘ You do not know all I have 
suffered and still suffer. Your religion cannot condemn com- 
plaint . . . Listen to my story. It is only when you will 
have learned how I was made a Vestal, that you can compre- 
hend my misfortune, and know the bitter anguish that fills 
my soul and which I have tried, so far, to conceal from you.” 

These last words of the Grand- Vestal need some expla- 
nation. 

Metellus Celer’s letters, frequent at first, had suddenly 
stopped, and the Vestal was at a loss to explain this silence. 
She questioned Cecilia who knew nothing more than that the 
mysterious messenger had ceased coming. We know the 
reason of this, but Cornelia could not be aware that this inter- 
ruption was due to the discovery of the conspiracy, and much 
less that the letter conveying to her the anxiously wished for 
assurance of Metellus Celer’s love had been placed under the 
Emperor’s eyes, and was now in the hands of the pontiff of 
the Christians. 

If the Grand-Vestal, unable to control her growing anxiety, 

Ion<yed to confide her torments to some faithful and discreet 

o 


264 


AURELIA; OR, 


heart, Cecilia had rw greater desire than to possess the confi- 
dence and friendship of the priestess whom she hoped to con- 
vert to Christianity. She had not concealed this hope, and 
Cornelia had replied : 

“ I do not believe it possible to go from the Atrium- Regmm 
to the Capena-gate.” 

“ Madam,” Cecilia replied : “ You are so near it by your 

chastity that but a step remains to be made.” 

Another motive, besides the laudable one already men- 
tioned, attracted Cecilia towards the Grrand-Yestal. She felt 
the liveliest curiosity to learn something of the private life 
of the Vestals whose only apparent duty was to feed the 
sacred fire. It was therefore with undisguised satisfaction 
that she prepared to listen to Cornelia’s story. 

“ You are going to hear some strange things,” said the 
latter. “ But you will know the full extent of a "festal’s 
misfortune, and you will tell me whether I am not right 
when I revolt against a yoke whose weight you cannot even 
suspect.” 



TEE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


265 


CHAPTER XIV. 


HISTORY OF A VESTAL, 



IHE Grand-Vestal commenced as follows: “ I was born 


X amidst all the advantages of rank and wealth. My family 
was looked upon as the first in Rome, for what other race can 
boast of such illustrious men as the Scipios, the Scillas, the 
Lentuli, the Cinnas and others which I count among my 
ancestors ! Oh ! why was I not, like you, my dear Cecilia, 
the daughter of a freedman ! This humble origin would have 
saved me from the dreadful fate which has made my life one 
of sorrow and will end — I have that fearful presentiment — 
only when I descend into the living tomb of the Campus 
Sceleratus !” 

“Madam,’* remarked Cecilia, interrupting her, “it is 
only the virgins who have broken their vows who are com- 
mitted to that horrible doom. It cannot, therefore, threaten 
you.” 

A slight blush spread over the pale fa.ce of the Grand- 
Vestal ; she overcame her emotion, however, and resumed 
her narrative. 

“ I shall pass rapidly,” she said, “ over the first joys of 
my infancy; happy and too short period, alas ! which I re- 
member incessantly after thirty years of sufferings, regrets 
and tears ! Methinks I see the fatal day which ended the 
happy dreams of my childhood. My mother had taken me, 
for the first time, in her soft and rich litter to the magnificent 
porticoes of Rome. We had received the flattering homage 
of the crowd; my pride was moved by the exclamations of 
praise I heard around us ; young as I was, I commenced to 
understand the privileges of rank and wealth. This popular 
demonstration filled me with delight. 

‘ ‘When we returned home, we found my father sitting in the 
middle of the Atrium, and plunged in the deepest sadness. 
Upon seeing me, he started, and bitter tears descended slowly 
down his pallid cheeks. I rushed into his arms, as was my 
wont, and while he held me passionately clasped, as though 
I were threatened by some pressing danger, I heard him say 
to my mother in a voice choked by emotion : 

‘ ‘ ‘ Laelia is dead ! ’ 


23 


266 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ ‘ Dead!’ exclaimed my mother, as faintly, and her face, 
but now so joyous, became as dreadfully pale as my father’s. 

‘ She died last night,’ continued Cornelius in the same 
tone. ‘ I heard it at the Forum . . . Here is an empty 
place in the Atrium^Regimn . . . Who will fill it ?’ 

“ I felt my father’s arms clasping me tighter to his heart, 
and I saw my mother kneel silently and mingle her tears with 
those of Cornelius and mine, for I wept to see them weep. 
The slaves who had accompanied us seemed to share the 
sorrow of their master, and many sobbed aloud. I could 
hear also, proceeding from another part of the Atrium, the 
shrieks of despair of my poor nurse, as she lay an inert mass 
on the marble pavement. 

“ Then, my mother tried to recall her courage, and asked ; 

“ ‘ Cornelius, are we indeed threatened with this dreadful 
misfortune ?’ 

‘ ‘ ‘ The pitiless goddess asks for another virgin to replace 
the one she has lost,’ replied my father, ‘ and what other 
will be more agreeable to her than this child ? All my friends 
share the forebodings which besiege my heart, and they have 
not concealed this from me . . . Fabia, our daughter will be 
taken away from us ! Believe me, we shall lose her soon I’ 

“ * Cornelius, the gods will make your forebodings false. 
No later than yesterday, I consulted the augurs on our 
daughter’s future . . . they replied that they saw nothing 
but happiness in store for her, for a long time to come.’ 

Fabia,’ said my father, gazing at her with emotion, 
‘the augurs always flatter our desires . . . Dear wife, if 
you fear nothing, why is it that you weep ?’ 

‘ ‘ The groan which escaped from my mother’s heaving chest, 
proved but too well that she was vainly endeavoring to dis- 
guise to herself the grave causes of anxiety which tormented 
her as cruelly as they did Cornelius. 

“My father then related what he had heard in the Forum, 
where the necessity of selecting another vestal had been 
eagerly discussed by the patricians. They had reckoned the 
number of young girls that presented the required conditions 
for this choice, and my father saw with terror that it would 
be difficult to complete the legal number — twenty girls, from 
six to ten years old — which should be presented to the pon- 
tiffs. There were many causes of exemption, which pro- 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


267 


tected this or that family : some could claim the privilege of 
the three children (/ws trium liberorum ;) here the father was 
a flamine, an augur, a quindecemvir, an epulo or a salienus ; 
there the child had lost one of its parents, and the law desig- 
nated only such as had 'their father and mother living Fi- 
nally it became evident that while a large number of families 
were shielded by these and like causes, mine was among the 
very few threatened. I must be one of the twenty from 
among which chance (skilfully guided) would designate the 
victim. 

‘ Fabia,’ exclaimed my father, sorrowfully, when he had 
finished these details, ‘ a simple flutist at the sacrifices would 
save his daughter ! This obscure title has never been de- 
nied ! . . . But I, a consular, shall see my child torn from 
me! . . . What Vesta, the implacable goddess, wants for 
her temple is illustrious and beautiful virgins ! Am I not 
the first patrician of Rome, and is not Cornelia the most 
graceful among the children of her age V 

A few days after this, a herald brought an order from the 
pontiffs to my parents, to conduct me to their presence on the 
next day, when the solemn ceremony would take place which 
filled the hearts of Roman mothers with fear and hope. My 
parents obliged to be present at the election which was to de- 
cide of my whole life, accompanied me to the place where the 
Emperor, in his capacity of High-Pontiff, would seize upon 
the virgin claimed by Vesta. They went without any escort ; 
that could have increased the peril by calling to mind our 
rank and fortune. For, since the time of Augustus, the 
priestesses of the Atrium- Regium have always been chosen 
among the noblest patricians. High birth, far from being a 
cause of exemption, was but another title to the sacrifice im- 
posed by a religion which counts ambition and pride among 
its greatest virtues. 

When we penetrated into the Area through the compact 
ranks of the tumultuous assemblage, the young girls desig- 
nated by the pontiff had already been presented. They were 
nineteen in number and I was the twentieth. 

‘ ‘ A herald conducted me to a place in their piidst. It 
seemed to me that this first separation from my family was a 
cause of joy for the parents of the other children, whose anx- 
ious faces brightened up as if I were a victim selected in ad- 


268 


AURELIA; OR, 


vance by an inexorable fate. Strange to relate ! I heard 
the people around me affirm their belief that chance would 
designate Cornelia. 

‘ ‘ Suddenly, the serried ranks of the multitude opened to 
make way for a cortege which was advancing silently towards 
the Area. It was the Emperor Nero, in his costume of High- 
Priest and escorted by the sacerdotal college. Every voice 
was hushed and the awe-stricken crowd waited in breathless 
anxiety the result of the solemn ceremony. 

“ An augur approached the Emperor, and informed him that 
he had consulted the auspices and no bad omens had been ob- 
served. The herald then proclaimed the names of the young 
girls presented. When mine was called I heard behind me 
the smothered sobs of my parents. 

‘ ‘ The names had been written on small tablets and deposited 
in an urn. The Emperor plunged his hand in the vessel and 
read aloud from the tablet which he drew forth the name of 
Cornelia — my name, whispered in advance by so many lips t 

‘ ‘ The acclamations of the people drowned the heart-rending 
cries of my mother, and the imprecations which my father 
in his despair addressed to the gods ! 

“The Emperor came up to where I stood, and putting his 
hand on me, as it is done when one takes possession of a 
slave, pronounced the consecrated words : 

“ ‘ Amata,’ * said he in a solemn voice, ‘ I take thee ? . . ^ 

‘ ‘ The enthusiastic clamors of the people and the pontiffs be- 
came so loud as to interrupt the Emperor ; when, at last, 
they had subsided, he resumed : 

“ ‘ Amata,' said he, ‘ I take thee to be a priestess of Yesta 
and to perform the sacred rites ; to do, according to the rights 
of the Vestals, all that is for the interest of the Roman people 
and of the Quirites. May a favorable law consecrate this 
election V 

“ So, I was a Vestal ! My father and mother were now 
nothing to me, for a Vestal has no family ! I must lose for- 
ever all I had known and loved t A child scarcely six years 
old, I could not comprehend the fatal consequences of the 
pompous ceremony, and yet, I wept bitterly, for I saw my 


* Amata was the name of the first Vestal taken in this manner, and in imitaf on 
of the ancient religious traditions, it was preserved in the formula subsequently 
adopted. 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


269 


young companions throw themselves in their mothers’s arms, 
whilst mine called me in vain ! . . . I was in the hands of 
the pontiffs who dragged me towards a closed litter, into 
which they made me enter despite my cries and supplications ! 

A few moments later, I was in the Atrium-Regiuin ; my 
curls fell under the scissors of the priests, and I was dressed 
in the garb of a Vestal. It is now near thirty years since I 
entered this asylum of despair which, by a bitter irony, they 
have sought to transform into a voluptuous and charming re- 
treat ; as if a sumptuous life and material enjoyments could 
prevent regrets, replace the joys of the family, and console 
us for the void in our affections ! 

‘ ‘ I never saw again my parents . They died broken-hearted 
during the first year of my ministry. The better to consum- 
mate a separation destined to be eternal, the pontiffs had not 
permitted us to meet a single instant ! 

* ‘ The impressions of our childhood are so transient, that the 
life of the Atrium-Regium pleased me at first. How could it 
be otherwise ? However wealthy my family, I had never 
been accustomed to such splendor as now surrounded me. 
Then, could I remain insensible to the public homage, the 
enthusiastic acclamations which greet us wherever we go ? 
The young girls who live here are all of illustrious birth, and 
their intercourse is of the most charming. I became intimate 
with the youngest, between whose age and mine there was 
less disparity, and I loved them with all the ardor of a heart 
who knows no other affections I 

“ Friends of my childhood, you are no more ! . . It is long 
since death parted us ! . . . What a void you have left here ! 
What cruel memories torture my heart when I look back to 
the fatal day which robbed me of the dear beings whose ex- 
istence^ completely blended with mine, gave me the most pre- 
cious joys I have ever tasted ! . . 

The Grand- Vestal’s voice had become tremulous, and her 
tears flew faster. She resumed, after a short pause : 

It was a horrible day which saw the death of Varonilla 
and the two sisters Ocellates ! . . . From that time I looked- 
upon life with fear, and the future appeared to me gloomy 
and desolate. It is ten years since that event happened, my 
dear Cecilia, for it was in the beginning of Domitian’s reign , 
and each of my days, during that period has been marked 
23 * 


270 AURELIA; OR, 

with so much anguish, that I know not how it is I have not 
succumbed ! . . . 

“ Until that time I had lived peaceful, if not happy. I 
felt, it is true, a vague sadness, but I could not have ex- 
plained its cause. It is said that migratory birds, when held 
captive, become restless when the season comes for them to 
seek more genial climes. In like manner I was agitated and 
troubled during the transition from infancy to womanhood, 
and when, seized with the vague desire of a different fate, I 
saw the horizon of my life bounded by the gloomy walls of 
this narrow precinct. 

“ However, I swear it by Vesta, my life was so pure and 
my heart so candid, that I could not understand what I felt. 
My soul remained in this sort of torpid state until I was 
twenty-five years old. The Vestals are initiated from the 
first day, into the practice of Vesta’s worship and its myster- 
ies ; but, outside of these material duties, they are never told 
anything of the closer and more fearful obligations of the 
soul. It is left to time to instruct them ; to their hearts to 
comprehend ; to circumstances to enlighten them suddenly ! 

“ This is what happened to me. 

“ One morning I awoke, frightened by moans and shrieks, 
and the tumultuous noise made by our slaves as they ran to 
and fro in the Atrium-Regium. I listened and heard a voice 
exclaim ; 

“ ‘ They are dead ! . . . Their bodies are already cold !’ 

‘ ‘ ‘ Who is dead V I cried, as the woman who generally at- 
tended me entered my room, all in tears. 

“ ‘ Varonilla and the sisters Ocellates ! . . . We have just 
discovered the fact.’ 

“ ‘ Varonilla and the sisters Ocellates?’ I repeated, with 
stupor. I had left them in all the bloom of health the even- 
ing before ; I could not understand what I heard. 

“ ‘ It is impossible!’ said I to the woman. ‘What! all 
three dead at the same time ? AVho can have said this ab- 
suidsty ?’ 

‘ [ had jumped out of bed, however, and was rushing to- 
wards the apartments of those three young Vestals. I scarcely 
heard the answer made by my slave : ‘ They have been 
killed !’ 

‘ ‘ Oh ! my dear Cecilia, what a terrible sight met my eyes as 
I opened the door of the room where our servants were crowd- 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


271 


ing around three youthful forms stretched in all the rigidness 
of death 1 With a single glance I recognized the pale feat- 
ures of my young companions, of those I loved as sisters ! I 
fell, senseless. 

‘ ‘ I was told that I remained several days in a state of stupor, 
bereft of reason, of the very sentiment of my existence. 
When I recovered my senses, I was lying in my bed, and 
seated near me was a pontiff — Helvius Agrippa ! I started 
with fright, and yet I remembered nothing. Agrippa said 
to ‘me in a grave and severe tone : 

“ ‘ Cornelia, the death of Yaronilla and the sisters Ocellates 
changes your position here. You are now the Grand-Yestal.’ 

“My sobs interrupted him. Memory was returning and 
with it the dreadful sight of the blood-stained remains of my 
three friends. 

“ ‘ Great gods!’ I cried. ‘ It was then true ! They are 
no more !’ 

“ ‘ Thus die the virgins who break their vows,’ said Agrip- 
pa with awful solemity. ‘ Do not forget it, Cornelia I . . .’ 

“ ‘ What do you mean ?’ I asked, looking up at the pontiff 
who in his turn gazed at me with astonishment. 

“ ‘It is strange!’ he murmured. ‘What!’ he resumed, 
after a short pause, ‘ can it be possible you are not aware 
that Yaronilla and the sisters Ocellates have been convicted 
of incest, and their corrupters banished? . . . Cornelia! 
Cornelia! . . . you have been accused of the same crime, 
and if you do not sleep now in the Campus Sederatus, near 
those unworthy Yestals, you may thank the clemency of the 
Emperor . . . whose niece is confided to your care . . . That 
child has saved your life . . . ’ 

“ Having uttered these threatening and mysterious words, 
Helvius Agrippa left me to study their impenetrable sense. 

“ ‘ What ! my young companions had succumbed under an 
accusation of incest ! . . . What ! I had come near perish- 
ing under the same charge ! Upon what grounds had this 
abominable denunciation been made? Who had tried us? 
Why had we not been arraigned and our defence heard?’ 

“ Here is what was related to me: 

“ Late in the evening, and but a few moments after I had 
bidden good-night to my young companions, a centurion, ac- 
companied by a pontiff, penetrated into the Atrium- Reg iiim. 


272 


AURELIA; OR, 


They went straightway to the room where V aronilla and the 
two Ocellates were still gaily engaged in conversation. 

“ ‘ You must die!’ said the pontifij entering abruptly, and 
addressing those three young virgins, who grew deathly pale 
and could not restrain a cry of terror. 

“ ‘ You have broken your vows 1’ continued the pontiff with 
implacable composure. ‘ You must die I such is the order of 
the Emperor who, as High-Pontiff, has pronounced your sen- 
tence! . . . ’ 

“The centurion, drawing his broad, short sword, presented 
it to the unfortunate victims. 

“ ‘ They fell on their knees,’ said to me the young Yestal, 
Antonia, from whom I learned these details — being in an ad- 
joining room, she had crept to the door and had been a silent 
and terrified witness of the horrible scene — ‘ they begged 
those two men to spare their lives, to let them, at least, jus- 
tify themselves from this vague charge.’ 

“ ‘ No,’ said the pontiff, ‘the slaves of your corrupters 
have been subjected to the torture, and they have confessed 
the crimes of their masters . . . Even at this moment, the 
latter are suffering the punishment of flagellation, after which 
they will be banished from Rome. As fbr you, the Emperor 
leaves you free to select the manner of your death. But 
your sentence is irrevocable.’ 

“ ‘ But this is impossible ! . . . We are innocent ! . . . 
We cannot be killed without a hearing !’ 

“Those unhappy maidens, wild with despair, prostrated 
themselves at the feet of their torturers who looked on un- 
moved. 

“ ‘ Here is the sword,’ said the centurion. 

“ ‘Or the poison,’ added the pontiff, presenting them a 
phial. ‘ Choose !’ 

‘ ‘ And as the victims still begged for mercy : 

“ ‘ Do you prefer,’ he exclaimed, ‘ the vault in the Campus 
Sceleratus, which the Emperor, in his goodness, permits you 
to avoid ? . . . Take care ! if the light of to-morrow’s sun 
finds you alive, the whole Roman people will witness your 
execution ! . . . Listen ! ... Do you hear that noise out- 
side? . . . ’ 

“ The three Vestals listened, shuddering. A confused 
rumor like that of many voices reached their ears. 


THE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


273 


“ ‘ There is a cohort at the gate/ resumed the pontilF, ‘of 
which this centurion is the chief, and which awaits your de- 
cision ... If you do not chose to die now, this escort will 
take you away, and to-morrow you will descend alive into the 
abyss where hunger will bring you a lingering death in atone- 
ment for your crimes.’ 

‘ ‘ This terrible threat was too much for our young compan- 
ions. Their lips parted for a last supplication, but they ut- 
tered no sound. The anguish of despair is sometimes so 
great as to silence even the prayer of the victim. 

“ Then, all hope being lost, something dreadful took place. 

“ Varonilla seized the centurion’s sword and dealt herself a 
blow, but her hand was not firm enough and she had neither 
the courage nor the strength to strike a second time . . . 
she presented her bosom to the soldier who plunged in it the 
blade already reeking with the blood of the fainting maiden. 

‘ ‘ The two sisters Ocellates clasped in each other’s arms, to 
meet a common death, were writhing in the most horrible 
convulsions. They had shared between them the pontiff’s 
poison. Their dying agonies were so dreadful to behold, and 
death so slow coming, that through compassion, or perhaps 
impatience, the centurion put them to death as he had done 
Varonilla. 

“ Their murderous task accomplished, the two men retired, 
and it was not until the next morning that the slaves of the 
Atrium- Regium discovered the three bodies lying in their 
gore. They found also Antonia, senseless at the foot of the 
column from behind which she had witnessed this tragical 
scene. This poor child succumbed a few months later, to 
the shock she had received ; fearful visions disturbed her 
sleep, and she was frequently seized with paroxysms of de- 
lirium which finally ended in her death. 

“ Thus perished those young maidens whose virginal chas- 
tity was never tarnished by an impure breath. If I did not 
share their fate, it was, as Helvius Agrippa had told me, only 
because the divine Aurelia had been placed in my care some 
time previous. 

“ She saved my life, but what a life, alas ! how can I help 
trembling when the mere denunciation of a slave, the secret 
enmity of a pontiff may at any time secure my condemnation. 
The most doubtful proof is deemed sufficient against a Vestal 
— we must not be even suspected. 


274 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ Oh ! what a fearful light those events have shed into my 
soul ! I had never reflected upon our duties and those pre- 
tended promises which our lips never pronounced. I under- 
stood now how terrible they were, and I saw an inexorable 
fate pushing us towards the abyss in which the hands of the 
pontiffs will entomb me some day — for this horrible presenti- 
ment has never left me ! Unless they should come to me 
also, in the dead of night, and say to me : Cornelia, you may 
choose between the sword and the poison ! 

“ May the gods forgive me, my dear child ! But what a 
religion is this which will have us remain pure, under fearful 
penalties, and in serving which we are compelled to witness 
the most frightful disorders ! You have heard of the mys- 
teries of the Good-Goddess, over which the Grand-Vestal 
must preside in person ? Ah ! when the pontiff of the Chris- 
tians came with the young Caesar Vespasian, to claim you 
from the divine Aurelia, he exclaimed before me that the 
Vestals fled, horrified, from those infamous mysteries ! He 
spoke truly. 

‘ ‘ I cannot lift the veil entirely from this hideous picture. 
Duty forbids me to say many things, and many others I must 
omit lest they should call the blush of shame to your cheeks.” 

At this juncture in Cornelia’s narrative, a venerable old 
man, drawing aside the heavy curtain of the door, appeared 
on the threshold. The two young women had not heard him 
approach , and they continued their conversation . Some words 
which reached the stranger’s ears, made him start. He 
stopped and listened. 

“ You know, my dear Cecilia,” Cornelia went on to say, 

that the mysteries of the Good-Goddess are celebrated on 
the Kalends of May, in the night time. Matrons are alone 
admitted. On the eve of that day, the Grand-Vestal, taking 
with her the sacred objects from the temple, proceeds to the 
house of tlie pretor, or of the consul, who must vacate in- 
stantly the premises and not return until the mysteries are 
over. I do not know if, as alleged by a poet * who in our 
days has justly denounced the frightful license of those mys- 
teries, they were formerly accompanied with some decency; 
but to-day, with what forgetfulness of all shame, with what 


♦Juvenal, vi.— Lines 334 and 335. 


TEE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


275 


ardor of insane debauchery and incredible frenzy these 
matrons are seized, who congregate under the pretext of hon- 
oring the conjugal chastity of Fauna ! 

“ The first time that I was called upon as Grand-Vestal to 
preside over these mysteries, I suspected nothing wrong. 
The preparations were made with due decorum, and the 
matrons even covered with thick veils the family pictures of 
the consul, Petilius Rufus — in whose house we had assembled 
— in order to carry out to the letter the precept of the rites 
which demands the absolute exclusion of men from the assem- 
blage. 

“ I was not long, however, in discovering my error and the 
moral corruption of these women. But I must stop here ; I 
cannot even recite for you the verses of the poet I alluded to 
just now, although his description is far below the scandalous 
truth. 

“ It was some years later, that returning from one of these 
ceremonies, I had occasion to save Metellus C#ler. Cecilia, 
I cannot tell you how dear this young man has become to me ! 
You know him and you have been able to judge whether he 
is worthy of the affection which alas ! fills my heart. Is this 
affection then a crime ? Your religion forbids complaint in 
suffering and would have one rejoice at sorrow, you said ; 
would it condemn my sentiments ? Shall I not be free 
soon ? . . . And then ! . . . 

‘ ‘ But what do I say ? Why these hopes ?” exclaimed the 
Grand-Vestal, rising suddenly in an extraordinary state of 
excitement. ‘ ‘ Metellus Celer is banished ! He has fled from 
the denunciations of Regulus, and yet, I feel it, the fearful 
anger of the pontiffs still threatens us. What has become of 
him ? What has happened ? Why is it that you receive no 
more letters for me ? In the last, he spoke hopefully, . . . 
he gave me to understand, for the first time, that he loved 
me ; he said he would soon be able to tell me more ! . . . 
This was three months ago . . . and that letter which was 
so soon to bring me happiness, has not yet come. 

“Cecilia! . . . Great misfortunes are preparing . . . the 
future is gloomy, and threatening! I see Metellus expir- 
ing under the blows of their bloody lash, . . and I! . . . hor- 
ror ! . . . I descend alive in that vault of the Campus Scd- 
cratus which has never given up its victims ! . . . Great 


276 


AURELIA; OR, 


gods ! . . . Wlio will save me ? . . . Who will shield me 
from this horrible fate ? . . . 

“ I will ! ” said in a grave and fe6lemn voice, the old man 
who had listened unseen to Cornelia’s last remarks, and who 
now advanced. 

The Grand- Vestal and Cecilia could not restrain a cry of 
surprise. They had recognized in this old man, the pontiff 
of the Christians ! 

“ You here, my lord !” exclaimed Cornelia, and she looked 
at Clemens with mingled astonishment and anxiety; “ what 
motive can have led you to this place ?” 

Madam,” said the old man, “I have taken charge of an 
important mission near you, and I hold in my hands an an- 
swer to some of the questions I have overheard you propound 
to this young woman . . . But, at the same time, I have to 
speak to you on serious matters. Can you grant me this in- 
terview ?” 

The Grand-Vestal acquiesced with a gesture of respectful 
deference, and motioned to the pontiff to take a seat. 

‘ ‘ My daughter,” said Clemens, turning to Cecilia, ‘ ‘ you 
may retire . . . Your presence here is no longer neces- 
sary. It remains with me to continue the work commenced 
by you, and to reply to the questions asked of you as I came 
in.” 

Cecilia kissed the Grand- Vestal’s hand, and having made a 
low obeissance to the venerable old man, left Cornelia and 
Clemens together. 

The Christian priest and the heathen virgin looked at each 
other in silence ; Cornelia with her heart beating with strange 
anxiety, Clemens with sadness, as he thought of the suffer- 
ings of the young woman and the dangers that threatened her. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


277 


CHAPTER XV. 

CLEMENS FULFILLS THE ENGAGEMENTS OF GORGES. 

T he pontiff was the first to break this silence. He said 
as he handed a letter to Cornelia : 

“ Madam, this letter from Metellus Celer is not of a recent 
date. . . It is sometime since I promised to deliver it into 
your hands ; but I had to reflect before fulfilling this mission. 
It may be attended with serious consequences and I wished 
to be prepared to avert them.’’ 

Cornelia scarcely heard these words. She was absorbed 
in the perusal of that much wished for letter in which she 
found, besides the revelation of public events which must 
have great influence on her future projects, the immense joy 
of knowing that she was loved. 

Knowing but too well what a terrible blow he would deal 
to her dreams of happiness, Clemens waited in silence for 
the moment when he could speak without causing too great a 
shock to the unfortunate Vestal. 

Cornelia turned at last her eyes beaming with happiness, 
on the venerable pontiff, and remarked, with a sweet smile : 

“ My lord, it would be ridiculous in me to evoke in your 
presence the gods I serve, to thank you for all the good you 
have done me by bringing me news that I had long and anx- > 
iously expected. But I shall willingly ask the Grod of the 
Christians to repay my debt of gratitude.” 

Clemens bowed without speaking, and the Grand- Vestal 
resumed : 

“ So, my lord, Domitian will soon be overthrown by Lucius 
Antonius, and his grand-nephews will be proclaimed empe- 
rors in his place ! This event is of immense importance to 
you and me. To you! for it will be the triumph of your 
doctrine. To me, for my implacable persecutors and tho 
terrible fears which besiege me must disappear with the 
tyrant. I repeat it, my lord, you do not . . . you cannot 
know all the good you have done me 1” 

The moment had come for Clemens to fulfill the painful 
task he had assumed. 

“ Madam,” he said sadly, but. with .exquisite kindness of 
tone, ‘ ‘ an old man may have the right to manifest his regard 
24 


278 


AURELIA; OR, 


for you . . . and nothing — forgive me this secret devotion — 
nothing that concerns you or that you may have to fear is 
unknown to me ! . . . But have you been told that when 
Domitian left Borne it was to march with all his forces against 
Lucius Antonius?” 

“ Great gods! . . . Can this be true, my lord?” 

It is an event known to everybody in Borne. The whole 
Senate accompanied the Emperor. I wonder that this news 
should surprise you.” 

“I knew, my lord, Domitian’s departure for Germany ; but 
there was no one to inform me of Lucius Antonius^ projects. 
It is only now, after what you have told me, that I can 
understand the importance of that expedition. But the Gen- 
eral will doubtless triumph ! Domitian is universally hated !” 

“Lucius Antonius will be crushed, madam .... From 
positive information I have received, I can affirm this. Do 
not, therefore, entertain vain hopes !” 

“ But at least,” said the Grand-Vestal, growing pale with 
secret fear, “much time must elapse before the schemes of 
our enemies can be carried out . . and in one year, at most, 
I shall, by ceasing to be a Vestal, escape from the denuncia- 
tions of Begulus, the resentment of the pontiffs .... the 
power of the Emperor ! . . . My lord, do you condemn the 
other hopes which this letter gives me, and would you pro- 
nounce me guilty for entertaining them ?” 

Cornelia’s eyes were fixed on the pontiff with profound 
anxiety, for she detected on his venerable features an expres- 
sion of sadness which he made no attempt to conceal. 

“You are thinking of Metellus Celer,” replied Clemens 
slowly, ‘ ‘ and you ask whether I approve or condemn your 
projects ? Alas ! the events which threaten you make it 
useless to examine this question. 0 my God !” he exclaimed, 
looking up to heaven and extending his hands over the 
Grand-Vestal’s head, “grant that this virgin who knows 
already your Holy Name, and who, unawares, has honored 
you by her purity, may have the strength to bear the blow 
I must deal her.” 

“ What can you mean, my lord!” cried the Grand-Vestal. 

‘ ‘ Madam, the letter you have just now read passed through 
the hands of the Emperor.” 

“ The Emperor has read this letter!” exclaimed the unfor- 
tuiKite Vestal, with a cry of terror. 


THE JEWS OF CAPENA GATE. 


279 


She had sprung from her seat, and stood before the pon- 
tiff, rigid as a statue, her face ashy pale, her burning eyes 
distended by fear. Then, this death-like rigidity of the mus- 
cles gradually gave way; tears moistened her eyes, and 
uttering a groan of anguish, she fell heavily upon the cush- 
ions. She had not fainted, but was in prey to a paroxysm of 
tears. 

The holy pontiff prayed fervently whilst waiting for the 
unfortunate young woman to recover sufficiently to listen to 
his words of consolation and perhaps of hope. A long silent 
pause ensued. The Grand- Vestal seemed to be interrogating 
her own heart, to discover whether there existed not some 
grounds for doubt, some uncertainty connected with the fearful 
revelation which one word from the venerable pontiff had 
presented in such terrible light. At last, she made an effort to 
spealc : 

“ My lord,” she said slowly, “ your word is sacred and 
your character holy; you would not frighten a wretched 
woman with vain dangers ; but is it not possible that you are 
mistaken or that you have been deceived 

“ Would to heaven that I were, madam,” replied Clemens 
with heartfelt emotion ; “unfortunately, I am certain of what 
I say.” 

“You said, my lord,” resumed the Grand-Vestal, “ that 
this letter had been in the Emperor’s hands ; how came it, 
then, to pass into yours?” 

“ This, madam, is the only mystery I have not succeeded 
in unravelling. I know who gave me the letter. It is the 
designator Gurges, whose name is not unknown to you. He 
told me that during the night a stranger had brought him 
this letter, and had stated to him that it had been read by 
the Emperor. But, how the stranger knew this, and how 
this important document passed out of Doraitian’s hands, he 
could not say. However, I understand that you should look 
upon these facts as vague and uncertain — this is what you 
would say. But I went further, and I believe I can assert 
that Gurges was not deceived. Yes, the Emperor has read 
this letter — this is the most important fact, and it matters 
little that we do not know why he has not kept it.” 

“You are right, my lord.” said the Grand-Vestal in a 
calm and dignified tone, “ it matters little I Domitian’s 


280 


AURELIA; OR, 


memory never fails him, and he does not require written 
proofs! . . . And,” she added with bitterness, “ when you 
became certain that this letter contained my death-warrant, you 
hastened to bring it to me. . . Such is, indeed, the mission 
of Pontiffs I” 

The priest, astonished at this remark, gave the Vestal a 
reproachful look, in which she read so much sincere compas- 
sion, that blushes suffused her pale features. 

“ Madam,” said Clemens, “ I go to those of my brethren 
whom the hand of God has chastized, to tell them it is time 
to confide in His mercy, and to hope in His almighty power. 
Why then should I have not come to you with the same words 
of comfort, if Providence threatens you with some great 
misfortune ?” 

The Grand-Vestal made no reply ; her eyes were fixed 
abstractedly upon the floor ; she seemed indifferent to what 
she had heard. A transformation had suddenly taken place 
in her, and Clemens had no longer before him a weak woman 
crushed by her sorrow, but a proud patrician accepting with 
heroic calmness an inevitable fate. Cornelia belonged to one 
of those grand Homan races whose firmness may be shaken in 
a moment of surprise, but who soon recover their energy, 
and display the most admirable courage. 

“ Madam,” resumed the pontiff, “ has that young woman, 
who was conversing with you when I came in, never told you 
that the ministers of Christ hasten near the afflicted only to 
bring them hope, and sometimes also, only to promise them 
salvation ?” 

“Ohl” said the Grand- Vestal, '‘hope! . . salvation! . . 
There can be none for me if ever I fall into the hands of our 
pontiffs! . . .” 

“ And I, madam, say 1 will save you!” cried the priest 
with such solemn assurance that Cornelia started. “ How 
this will be, I cannot say yet; but have confidence, and 
remember my words . . Yes, even if you should be already 
entombed in the vault of the Campus Sceleratus, I will save 
you ! I will not let that abominable sacrifice be accomplished 
under my eyes !” 

At this sudden mention of the dread abyss upon which her!, 
thoughts BO frequently dwelt, the poor Vestal shuddered, anil 
terror was depicted on her countenance. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


281 


My lord, my lord,’’ she murmured faintl}^, “ it would be 
a prodigy ! . . . And I must not hope for one! . . Pray 
to your God that lie may inspire my enemies and the Empe- 
ror to forget this letter — the proof of an innocent affection in 
which others may see a crime. . . I have no right to ask 
or hope more !” 

My God, madam, is the God of miracles. . . He has 
promised to his servants who would invoke His name, to 
manifest His power by the greatest wonders. . . He is the 
God of truth and of life ; I shall ask Him to reveal his power 
for you . . . and He will do it ! . . 

‘ ‘ Am I then one of you, my lord, that this Almighty God 
should deign to come to me even in the tomb . . . and to 
take me out of it at your request ?” 

“Virgin of Vesta I” exclaimed the venerable priest, “for 
thirty years you have worn the immaculate garment which the 
brides of Christ also wear. . . You have not indeed, made the 
sacrifice of the heart which pleases Him above all ; but chas- 
tity has bloomed in you, and so beautiful is this flower, 
that our God looks upon it with loving eyes even when it 
dwelleth in souls that have not known Him ! . . . Be com- 
forted, ray daughter, and hope in His mercy 1” 

The Grand- Vestal was deeply moved by these simple 
words. As she gazed silently at the venerable old man who 
had spoken them, she remembered the words of another pon- 
tiff whom she had seen near her in similar circumstances. 
What a diflerence between the pagan priest and the minister 
of Christ! between Helvius Agrippa and Clemens. Both 
had spoken of the same threatening perils ; but how different 
their language. What harshness ! what pitiless rigor ! what 
cold indifference in the former ! What gentleness ! what 
compassion ! what devotion in the latter ! 

The vaguest suspicions had sufficed Helvius Agrippa to 
pronounce her guilty ; the purity of her past life had had no 
weight with him. Even when knowing the weakness of her 
heart and her secret feelings, Clemens honored the virgin 
whose past was irreproachable ; and abstained from condemn- 
ing her for asking of the future some consolation for the suf- 
ferings of a life of sadness. 

This indulgence was what the Grand- Vestal felt most 
keenly in the pontiffs reply. 

24 * 


2S2 


AURELIA; OR, 


“I return you thanks, my lord, she said simply, but 
the grateful look she gave Clemens was more eloquent than 
words. 

“Farewell, madam,’^ said he, “my mission is accom- 
plished. . . Should worse days come, you will see me 
again !” 

The venerable old man left the Grrand-Vestal to her medi- 
tations. 

“ 0 my God!’’ murmured the pontiff, as he wended his 
way towards the Capena-Gate, and he turned to cast a last 
look on the Atrium Reg turn, “ there is in that asylum, a poor 
woman to whom I have promised Your help, and who knows 
not how near may be the hour of danger ! . . Let not my 
promise be vain, 0 Lord ! . . but permit me to glorify Your 
name by saving this virgin who will wish to know You and 
to consecrate herself to You !” 

Clemens extended his hand to bless invisibly the afflicted 
Vestal who, at that very moment, was beseeching the God 
of the Christians to protect her from the fury of her enemies. 

A few days after these events the news came that Lucius 
Antoniushad been killed, and the insurrection was crushed. 
In less than a month, Domitian returned to Rome, with rage 
in his heart, and preparing to carry out his long delayed 
schemes of vengeance. 



THE JEWS OF CAPENA GATE. 


283 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE STORM OATHERINO. 

T he reader will remember that Hirsutus, having been an 
invisible witness of the conversation in which Marcus 
licgulus had revealed to the Emperor the existence of the 
conspiracy headed by Lucius Antonius, had immediately 
dispatched a courier to the general, inviting him to march at 
once upon Rome, where a powerful party would support him. 

The events of the following day induced Hirsutus to modify 
considerably his plans. When Domitian announced to the 
assembled courtiers that he would march immediately against 
Lucius Antonius, and subsequently informed Regulus that 
he would defer the execution of his vengeance in order to 
mahe it more complete, the hideous dwarf saw that all would 
be lost if, Lucius Antonius happening to be vanquished, tlie 
documents and plans of the conspiracy should fall into Domi- 
tian’s hands. 

Now, Hirsutus foresaw the defeat of Lucius x\ntonius 
who had not had time to assemble the forces necessary to the 
success of his undertaking, and would be taken by surprise. 
How could he avert the misfortunes which would follow 
Domitian’s probable victory ? how check his cruelty if he came 
back to Rome having in his possession the names of those 
who had meditated his overthrow *? . 

Here is what Hirsutus imagined to save so many persons 
who might, at a later day, and by new conspiracies less com- 
promised than the one recently discovered, serve his secret 
resentment and avenge him upon the master whose ruin he 
had sworn Between Rome and Germany, a General named 
Lucius Maximus was stationed at the head of strong legions. 
Like many others, he was in the plot, and his forces were to 
strengthen the army of Lucius Antonius when tlie latter 
would move upon Rome. Hirsutus informed this Lucius 
Maximus of Domitiau’s early departure, and advised him to 
turn immediately against Antonius in order to preclude all 
possibility of the Emperor fighting in person against that Gen- 
eral, and thereby to prevent Domitian from obtaining posses- 
sion of documents to which hung the fate of the senate and 
the life of so many illustrious citizens. The trustworthy 


284 


AURELIA; OR, 


messsengcr selected by him communicated moreover with the 
principal leaders of the conspiracy, and received their private 
instructions. 

It was represented to Lucius Maximus that this was the 
only feasible plan in the new situation brought about by the 
revelations of Marcus Keguliis; that Domitian disposed of 
immense resources and would inevitably crush Antonins ; 
that it was therefore advisable to forestall him, to fall sud- 
denly upon the General of the army of Germany, defeat him, 
take and destroy his papers, and thereby prevent the emperor 
from wreaking vengeance upon all who had participated in the 
plot for his overthrow. AVith nothing but vague suspicions, 
Domitian would probably not dare to order the murders he 
already contemplated. 

It is true that this would be sacrificing Antonins ; but what 
was the life of one man when so many were in danger ; and 
would not Maximus himself be one of the victims, if Domi- 
tian learned the share he was to have taken in the proposed 
insurrection ? 

Those whom fortune abandons seldom find friendships strong 
enough to remain faithful in the hour of adversity. Maxi- 
mus, frightened by the serious news sent to him from Pioinc ; 
knowing better than any one else that Antonius was not yet 
ready either to attack or resist; and fearing for his own 
safety, resolved at once to abandon his accomplice. He 
raised precipitately his camp, and marched with his legions 
against Lucius Antonius. A sudden rise of the Rhine had 
complicated the embarrassment of this General who, separa- 
ted from the greater portion of his troops, was reduced to 
inactivity. Maximus attacked him at once, and gained an 
easy victory. 

Lucius Antonius was killed in this battle. A soldier cut 
off his head, and preserved this bloody trophy to present it 
to Domitian. The latter arrived shortly after to reap the 
fruits of his lieutenant’s victory. But his hopes were disap- 
pointed. Maximus had hastened to destroy every document 
concerning the plan of insurrection. Domitian was in a 
fearful rage when he learned that he could get no clue to the 
accomplices of Antonius, and that the designs formed against 
him must remain an impenetrable mystery. He did not 
punish Maximus, however, for the latter’s hasty zeal. But 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


285 


lie committed unheard of atrocities in Germany, where he 
remained some time trying to discover the lost thread of the 
conspiracy. 

When he returned to Home his resentment knew no bounds. 
Then commenced a reign of terror for the capital of the 
world. Tacitus has described with inimitable energy of lan- 
guage those scenes of horror. Death or banishment were the 
fate of the wealthiest and most virtuous citizens. The inform- 
ers attained the greatest favors; the rewards they reaped 
were as odious as the infamous acts by which they earned 
them, 

Pliny-the-Younger, in his letters, has also described those 
days of universal desolation. But he mourns, above alb 
numerous friends of which’ he was robbed by death and ban- 
ishment. 

But Domitian’s relentless persecutions were not confined to 
men whose political influence could have given him umbrage. 
The philosophers had already been driven away, by him, 
from Rome and Italy; scholars, historians and poets were 
now comprised in the renewed edicts of expulsion. For some 
secret motive the Christians were spared, and neither Flavius 
Clemens nor his two sons were molested at the time. It is 
only two years later that the Christian persecution commenced 
in which Flavius Clemens sufiered martyrdom. 

It may bo that the uneasiness caused to the Emperor by the 
recently suppressed insurrection was the secret of his leniency 
towards his relatives. The young Caesars were very popular, 
and the people who had borne so long with Domitian’s crimes, 
would probably not suffer him to sacrifice to his fury the 
princes they looked upon as their future rulers. 

There may have been another cause for the tyrant’s hesi- 
tancy. The strange adventure of Minerva’s statue, disarmed 
by a God more powerful than Jupiter, was siill present to 
his memory, and he could not help thinking that he would 
perhaps, himself succumb, if he dared to attack the wor- 
shippers of that mysterious and terrible divinity. 

What became of the Grand-Vestal amidst this general 
gloom and terror ? Since the Emperor’s return she had lived 
in continued anxiety. She found strength and courage to 
bear the burthen of her sorrows only in the devoted friend- 
ship of Cecilia and Aurelia, who scarcely left her. 


286 


AURELIA; OR, 


Cecilia, wishing to complete the work commenced, spoke 
to her with affectionate perseverance of the celestial hopes of 
Christianity, and of the contempt which the greatest misfor- 
tunes must inspire to those who see in another life an ever- 
lasting reward and eternal repose. But the Grand- Vestal 
was too cruelly troubled to understand these words of comfort. 
She could think of nothing but the fearful prospect of a terri- 
ble death in the vault of the Campus Sceleratus, and it 
seemed to her that Christianity, far from saving her from this 
cruel fate, would only be another motive for the pontiffs to 
order the death of the unfaithful priestess who had renounced 
her creed. 

She derived more comfort from the assurances given her by 
the divine Aurelia, who proposed to intervene near the 
Emperor as soon as she who had been to her a second mother 
would be seriously threatened, and to save her once more. 
Domitian would not resist when he should see his niece at his 
feet. 

Domitian seemed to think no more of terrifying Borne with 
the execution of a Vestal, condemned in accordance with the 
most rigorous provisions of the ancient religious law whose 
traditions he wished to perpetuate. But, at last, this project, 
conceived long ago, presented itself anew to his mind. It 
would be the means of illustrating his reign. 

He therefore sent for Marcus Begulus, and stated to him 
that he would proceed as High Pontiff against the Grand- 
Vestal, and this Metellus Celer, who had been initiated into 
the projects of Lucius Antonius, and conseq^uently deserved 
death on two grounds of accusation. 

“Yes, my lord,” replied Begulus; “ but Metellus Celer 
is not in your power ; and without an accomplice to show to 
the people, the accusation against a Vestal becomes difficult 
to manage, and must, at all events, lose its intended effect.” 

‘ ‘ Begulus, it is for you to find this man ; you took charge 
of the management of this business, you must bring about its 
successful termination.” 

The Emperor was dissatisfied. He dismissed the informer. 

Decidedly, Begulus was unlucky. The two great under- 
takings to which he had devoted himself, and in which he had 
displayed so much activity, contributed little to strengthen 
his credit and to maintain him in favor. His denunciations 


THE JEWS OF CAPENA GATE. 


287 


against the Christians had doubtless, seemed rash and dan- 
gerous, for the Emperor, far from provoking new revelations, 
would not suffer him to refer to the subject. The accusation 
against the Grand-Ye&tal had succeeded better, since Domitian 
had resolved to proceed ; but, nevertheless, there was always 
aome circumstance happening to diminish in the prince’s mind 
the high opinion he had formed of the informer’s great 
ability. 

The disappearance of Metellus Celer at the very time he 
was wanted was not likely to revive the Emperor’s singularly 
weakened confidence, llegulus understood this, and made 
extraordinary efforts to find Cornelia’s pretended accomplice. 
He neglected all other business and took very little part in 
the persecution of the citizens. Yet, for a long time, ho 
almost despaired of success. He had lost the spy he had 
boasted of having placed near Metellus. The young man 
having discovered that his servant was the agent of his worst 
ememy, treated him as he had done Parmenon. 

At last, one day, when the disappointed informer was 
beseeching the gods to crown with success the search which 
was to lead an unfortunate young man to the most cruel 
death, a courier came to inform him that Metellus Celer had 
been seized in his retreat, and was now on his way to E-ome, 
well secured in a closed litter, and under good escort. 

The wretch hastened to carry this important news to the 
Emperor. But on his way to the Palatine-House, Begulus 
met with an adventure so strange that we must devote to it a 
new chapter. 



288 


AURELIA; OR, 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE SATURNALIA. 

rpO go from his residence to the Palatine-House, Regulus 
I had to cross the Forum. He found that spacious place 
filled with an immense crowd of people, enjoying themselves 
in a noisy and disorderly manner. , 

The informer suddenly remembered that it was the day of 
the Saturnalia, and this delirious multitude was entirely 
composed of slaves — temporarily the masters of Rome — and 
who were there only to give themselves up to the wildest 
revels and all the license permitted by a few days of freedom. 

Marcus Regulus would have turned back, but it was too 
late. A slave, who was seated on the pretor’s chair, had 
perceived him, and cried out : 

“By Saturn, here comes, I believe, that rascal, Marcus 
Regulus ! Lictors, let that man be arrested and brought 
before me !” 

The individual who gave this singular order — which made 
the informer shudder — was one of our oldest acquaintances. 
It was Palaestrion, the slave porter of the divine Aurelia. 
He was accompanied by his huge dog, so well fed upon 
cooked frogs, and which he had sworn to set upon Regulus, 
the first day he should meet him. 

Yes, it was Palaestrion, in person, no longer chained by 
the waist to the wall of his lodge ; but Palaestrion triumph- 
ant, honored, obeyed; Palaestrion wearing the insignia of the 
urban pretor and sitting upon his chair, commanding to lic- 
tors, and giving orders which were as promptly carried out as 
the magistrate’s. 

He had hardly spoken when the lictors seized the informer 
amidst the joyful acclamations of the multitude. This Regu- 
ulus, whose name made so many tremble, now stood, abashed 
and humbled, at the feet of the slave whose disdainful and 
ironical looks increased his anxiety. But how came Palaes- 
trion to obtain this power and to preside over the tribunal of 
the pretor. 

One word will suffice to explain this mystery : Palaestrion 
was the hero of the feast of Saturnalia. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


289 


On the evening of the sixteenth day of the Kalends of 
January, a pontiff had appeared, according to long estab- 
lished custom, under the portico of the temple of Saturn, 
situated in the centre of the Forum, and had cried thrice in 
aloud and solemn voice: Saturnalia! Saturnalia! Satiir- 
nalia ! 

At this proclamation, long expected by the impatient and 
tumultuous multitude, cries of joy rent the air, and a thous- 
and voices replied to the priest by repeating the consecrated 
exclamatioij ; lo ! lo ! Saturnalia ! lo ! Saturnalia ! 

In answer to this signal, gangs of slaves rush from every 
direction, invading the Forum with an impetuosity which 
the current of the Tiber would have scarcely attained had it 
suddenly broke through its dikes. All these slaves wear the 
cap of liberty, as though they had just been set free. Their 
joy is delirious and the air is filled with their songs and 
shouts. The last comers find no room in the crowded Furiim, 
and they spread in every direction over the city which -wi 1 
remain during seven entire days the theatre of their wild 
revels and of licentious excesses authorized on this occasion 
by both law and custom. 

Such was the inauguration of the Saturnalia; such the 
first outburst of the popular intoxication whose increasing 
manifestations ended only after every pleasure had been 
exhausted. 

This season of liberty for the slave was also one of rejoicing 
for the master. It was the time for making friendly calls 
and sending presents. This ancient custom was generally 
observed by the poor and the rich, the humble and the great. 
Nobody would have liked to neglect it, and everything, from, 
the precious jewel to the toy of trifling value, or even the* 
bunch of onions from the little garden plot, was received 
with gratitude, as a memento of good omen for the coming 
year. 

There is nothing better than this annual exchange of little 
gifts. We cannot, after eighteen hundred years, criticize a. 
custom from which we have derived our own practice of New 
Year’s gifts, and even our letters of congratulation and com- 
pliment, for at the time of the Saturnalia, people who could 
write exercised themselves in the flowerj^style of composition, 
sending graceful or pleasant epistles to their friends. 

25 


290 


AURELIA; OR, 


The Saturnalia were instituted in the remotest period of 
antiquity, in commemoration of that fabulous reign of Saturn, 
during which there was neither master nor slave; when 
everything was held in common, and piety, justice and con- 
cord reigned upon the earth. Succeeding generations had 
sought to perpetuate the memory of that happy time which 
the poets styled the Golden Age, by annual festivities which 
should recall that primitive equality, that peace and happi- 
ness, now flown forever. 

In the principle, this feast was celebrated in one single 
day — on the fourteenth of the Kalends of January (Decem- 
ber 19th) Julius CoDsar when he reformed the calendar, added 
two days to the month of December, Avhich were claimed as 
belonging to the Saturnalia, and this was confirmed by a sub- 
sequent edict which fixed their legal duration to three days. 
Subsequently, the celebration of the Sigillaria, also in honor 
of Saturn, and of the feast of his wife Ops, the goddess of the 
earth, were added to the Saturnalia, extending their duration 
to seven days. 

The male slaves alone enjoyed this short period of liberty 
in December ; the women had their turn on the Kalends of 
March, when the year formerly commenced. The servants 
then became the mistresses, and the proudest matrons of the 
aristocracy had to submit to their exigencies. This feasts 
which lasted but one day, was styled Matronalia. 

Banqueting was the principal source of enjoyment during 
the Saturnalia, and custom recjuired that it should be at the 
expense of the masters. The latter were sometimes admit- 
ted to partake of their servants^ banquet, and then in the 
midst of the general confusion and unrestrained license, they 
had to suffer at the hands of their drunken slaves, the violent 
reproaches, the offensive railing and harsh truths inspired 
by a revengeful recollection of evils suffered, or by a simple 
desire to debase those who were condemned to bear tempo- 
rarily these trials. At other times, the slaves were even 
more exacting, and they compelled citizens of the highest 
rank to wait on them. In this case, the most ridiculous 
commands, orders the most difficult to execute, and subjection 
to the most fantastic whims were added as a bitter derision to 
the necessity of this temporary slavery. 

The law authorized everything short of bodily violence, 
and the masters had to submit tamely. It was even expressly 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


291 


forbidden to exercise reprisals upon the slave, when, after 
using to its full extent his vexatious privilege, he resumed 
the yoke of servitude. 

These were not, however, the only joys to which these 
wretches aspired during these few days of interruption to 
their habitual condition of suffering. After the intemper- 
ance of the table, they must try the intemperance of honors. 
Having copied the vices of their masters, they must ape them 
in their dignities. 

The Forum became necessarily the theatre upon which 
were given these grotesque representations of social organi- 
zation. The slaves assumed the functions and privileges of 
the magistrates and civil functionaries. All this was done 
seriously, with comic importance, and with due regard for 
all the accessories appertaining to each different dignity, such 
as the costumes, the lictors, the curulc chair, and even the 
rostrum for improvised orators. The functions of pretor 
were the most sought after in these satirical and often humor- 
ous mummeries of the “ life in the open air’’ of the Forum, 
because they gave occasion to the most amusing decisions. 

On this occasion, Palacstrion had been designated by the 
votes of his fellow slaves, in the mock election held for the 
office of urban pretor. 

Palaestrion, the slave porter of the divine Aurelia — the 
niece of Domitian and future Empress of the Romans, had 
immediately conquered a consideration and importance pro- 
portionate to the supreme destinies of that young and noble 
matron. The servant reflects the greatness of his master, 
and this reflection had thrown around Palmstrion a sort of 
halo, the brightness of which he did not suspect. 

No other slave had better enjoyed the liberty of the 
Saturnalia; never had such pomp decorated his humble person. 
Quicker than any one else, he had rid himself of the chains 
which held him captive in his lodge, and had rushed to the 
Forum, followed by his faithful dog. He had been one of the 
first to hear the proclamation of the Saturnalia. 

To relate everything worthy of note that Palasstrion and 
his dog had accomplished during the first six days would require 
a volume. 

He had plunged headlong into all the ardent pleasures of 
the Saturnalia ; he had left far behind all who attempted to 


292 


AURELIA; OR, 


follow him ; he had particularly distinguished himself in those 
huge banquets worthy of Homer’s hepes. 

In one word Palmstrion, as we have already stated, was 
the hero of the saturnalia. He had been proclaimed the 
king of the festive board ; and when from the triclinia were 
carried to the Forum the last scenes of this festival of lib- 
erty, upon which another sun was not to shine, the unani- 
mous voice of his comrades enthusiastically proclaimed Pa- 
Isestrion worthy of the dignified office of pretor. 

Palacstrion donned bravely the magisterial robe, appointed 
his lictors ; and sitting in the pretor’s chair, prepared to per- 
form his judicial duties. ‘ But a judge without a case to try, 
cuts a sorry figure, and poor Palaestrion saw with embarrass- 
ment the disappointed looks of the audience as the hours 
passed without a single pleader presenting himself into courts 
though the criers made themselves hoarse in inviting tho 
people to test the prudence and justice of the learned judge. 

Palasstrion’s face was growing purple with shame as ho 
listened to the increasing titter which circulated in the mirth- 
ful crowd, and the big sweat drops rolled from his brow. It 
was at this perplexing juncture that he caught sight of Reg- 
ulus. The slave-pretor recognized immediately his quondam 
tempter, and, in a stentorian voice, ordered his arrest. He 
intended to carry his revengeful joke as far as the license of 
the saturnalia permitted, and with this view he called to hia 
dog. The animal, who was circulating freely among the 
crowd, in two bounds took his place near his master’s curule 
chair. 

^‘Ah! Cerberus!” said Palaestrion, patting him on the 
back, “attention ! old boy, we are going to have some fun !” 

The dog wagged his tail and showed his double row of 
sharp teeth, as if he understood what was coming. 

Marcus Regulus saw this, and his cheeks grew pale, as he 
asked himself what the slave’s intentions might be. 

The most savage clamors greeted the informer who had 
been recognized by the crowd. Palaestrion had reconquered 
all his waning popularity, for curiosity was awakened and 
every one looked for scenes of more than usual interest. A 
thousand voices mingled with the growls of the dog who, his 
glowing eyes fixed on his master’s, only awaited a signal to 
spring upon the trembling wretch whom the lictors had 
brought to the bar of the tribunal. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


293 


“ lo ! lo! Saturnalia! lo ! lo! Palaoatrion repeated 
the multitude with wild excitement. 

Palaestrion was enjoying his own triumph and the terror of 
Marcus Regulus. His silence and the ironical expression 
of his looks increased the intolerable anguish of his 
victim. At last, the slave-pretor extended his hand to com- 
mand attention, and the tumult ceased as if by magic. The 
slaves looked on in breathless expectation. 

“ What is your name ?” asked the magistrate, addressing 
Regulus. 

“ I am a citizen, and I protest against all acts of personal 
violence,” replied the informer, trying to give some assur- 
ance to his voice. 

“ Very well,” said the slave-pretor, “ but this is the time 
of the saturnalia, and you are accused ...” 

“ What charge can be trumped against me ?” asked Reg- 
ulus. 

“ Was it not you,” replied Palaestrion, “ who, by corrupt 
means, tempted the fidelity of the woman Doris, a slave in the 
household of the divine Aurelia, and brought upon her the 
punishment which caused her death ? . . . What have you 
to reply ?” 

The informer shuddered, but remained silent. 

“ Was it not you again,” resumed the magistrate, “ who, 
concealing your name, came to a poor slave named Palaestrion 
to offer him his freedom, and who endeavored by your insid- 
ous questions to surprise the secrets of the divine Aurelia’s 
household, thereby exposing said Palaestrion to perish, like 
Doris, under the public executioner’s lash ?” 

“Palaestrion, Palaestrion,” exclaimed Regulus in a sup- 
plicating tone, “ I swear that my intentions towards you 
were sincere and it was not my fault if they were not real- 
ized.” 

“ Hush ! wretch . . . Here I am no longer Palaestrion, I 
am a judge who interrogates . . . Come, are these facts true 
or false ? ... By Saturn ! take care that you do not pre- 
varicate !” 

But, instead of replying to this question, Regulus sprang 
back, uttering a piercing cry. This unexpected incident was 
caused by Cerberus. Pending the interrogatory, the dog had 
gradually approached the informer, and had finally inserted 
25 * 


294 


AURELIA; OR, 


his sharp fangs into the latter’s thigh ; such, at least, appeared 
to he the fact, from the manner in which the animal still held 
on to his tunic. 

“ Cerberus ! Cerberus!” cried Palmstrion angrily. 

The dog immediately let go his hold. 

“ Lictors! chastise this insubordinate animal who will not 
wait for the signal.” 

The lictors, detaching a few rods from their fasces, struck 
the dog who howled with pain. The crowd applauded this 
act of justice. 

“ Ilegulus,” resumed the slave, evidently gratified by these 
public marks of approbation, “ have you anything to say in 
justification of these charges? . . . Speak . . . I listen.” 

The wretched man could find only words of cowardly sup- 
plication. 

“ So,” said Palmstrion, “ you adntit the truth of these al- 
legations . . and you have nothing more to say ...” 

“ Pahnstrion, I swear it to you again . . I did not know 
... I could not know that I was exposing you to any 
danger.” 

“ I am not concerned in this case, Regulus ; cease, there- 
fore, misunderstanding my words and pronouncing my name; 
the question at issue is the trade you follow and the misfor- 
tunes which result from your informations . . Is it not 
enough that 3mu have attempted to introduce treachery 
under the roof of my noble mistress, and that a young girl 
has perished, a victim to the temptations of your gold ? . . 
This is what you must justify yourself from ... Or other- 
wise you cannot escape punishment. As for me, I despise 
the solicitations with which you tried to deceive me, and as a 
judge, I must forget them. For the last time I charge you 
to answer without equivocation.” 

Palmstrion had spoken these words with great dignity and 
firmness The humble slave seemed to be gradually pene- 
trated with the greatness of his functions, and he introduced 
the majesty of truth in the fiction undertaken for amusement. 

Marcus Ilegulus, completely overwhelmed, could think of 
nothing except how he should effect his escape ; his ejres wan- 
dered about anxiously, watching a favorable opportunity. 
But flight was no easy matter. Cerberus was there, an at- 
tentive sentinel, and all around, the serried ranks of the mul- 


THE JEWS GF CAP ENA GATE. 


295 


titude presented an impassable barrier. No friendly face met 
the informer’s eager glance ; he saw, everywhere, nothing but 
cruel smiles which told him plainly how much the spectacle 
of his anguish was enioyed b” those who waited for Palms- 
trion’s judgment. 

The pretor, silent and collected, was thinking of what sen- 
tence he should pronounce. A new incident licre distracted 
the attention of the crowd. The melodious sounds of a flute 
were heard in the direction of the portico of Saturn’s tem- 
ple, and the pontiff was seen issuing from the sacred edifice, 
W'here he had been performing an expiatory sacrifice. lie 
wms accompanied by Misitius playing the harmonious instru- 
ment used upon such occasions. The crowd made w'ay, re- 
spectfully, and the pontiff and his musician soon found them- 
selves in front of the slave-pretor’s court. 

A drowning man catches at straws, and llcgulus no sooner 
recognized the priest than he sprang towards him, claiming 
his protection in the most pitiful accents. 

“ Saturnalia !” cried Palicstrion, to stop the movement 
which the pontiff, surprised at finding Ileguius in this embar- 
rassing predicament, wms about to make in his favor; “ Sat- 
urnalia ! this man belongs to me until the sentence I am 
going to pass shall have been executed !” 

“ It is true,” said the priest, “ we are in the days of Sat- 
urnalia, and you are the masters ! Ileguius, may the gods 
protect thee, I can do nothing.” 

The pontiff went avray, leaving to his fate Pegulus wdio 
trembled with rage and gave vent to his disappointment in 
the most fearful imprecations.’ Misitius would have followed 
the pontiff, but Pajmstrion would not permit it. 

“ Flute-player !” lie cried, making a gesture of command, 

your pre.sence is required here. Your instrument must 
mark time for the exercise to whicii I shall condemn llegu- 
lus as a just punishment for his crimes. I command you to 
stay !” 

The unfortunate Misitius would have rather been a hun- 
dred miles from Home, than to find liimsclf in the preseneo 
of the wretch he had so much cause to fear; but it wnis as 
impossible for Misitius to disobey Palaostrion, as for Ptcguliu 
to escape from the punishment about to bo inflicted. 

Misitius stopped, and waited patiently for further orders. 


296 AURELIA; OR, 

The look that Regulus gave him made the poor fellow 
shudder. 

Palaestrion, seated on his curule chair proclaimed silence 
and announced that he would now pronounce the sentence of 
the culprit. 

The crowd listened with eager curiosity. 

‘ ‘ It appears,” said the slave-pretor in a solemn voice, and 
using the consecrated formula, “ that Marcus Regulus, in- 
former, here present, is the author, through his seductions, 
of the death of a young girl named Doris, a slave in the 
household of the divine Aurelia. Consequently, I order that 
he shall be tossed in a blanket, and that the flute-player shall 
accompany with the sounds of his instrument the execution 
of this sentence !” 

The whole Forum shook under the thunder of applause 
which greeted the judgment of the wise Palaestrion. No 
sentence could have been imagined to crown with a more di- 
verting practical joke the feast of the Saturnalia and to reach, 
at the same time, the much feared and hated man upon whom 
it was to be played. 

A large circle was formed around the downcast informer ; 
twelve athletic slaves seized him and, despite his struggles, 
stretched him at full length on a wide carpet, which impa- 
tient hands were already lifting ; and Misitius commenced 
playing a symphony amidst the plaudits of the delighted 
crowd and the cries, repeated by a thousand voices, of : 

“Saturnalia! lo! Saturnalia! lo! lo ! Palaestrion*” 

Regulated by the modulations of Misitius’ flute, the cad- 
enced motion w^as accomplished ' with a perfection that gave 
it additional force. The informer’s body scarcely touched 
the carpet than it was again thrown to a prodigious height. 
These aerial evolutions could be witnessed from all parts of 
the Forum, and the savage acclamations which greeted it 
showed how keenly the multitude enjoyed the distress of the 
wretched Regulus. His most cruel enemy must have pitied 
him ! 

At last, not perhaps through merciful feelings, but because 
every punishment must have an end, Palaestrion ordered the 
tossers to stop. Marcus Regulus fell back once more on the 
carpet, whence he was permitted to roll on the pavement. 
In a moment he stood on his feet. His face was deathly 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


297 


pale ; liis eyes flashed with rage ; but his voice failed him, 
he could not utter a word. Pahecstrion ordered the crowd to 
give way and let Eegulus go where he pleased. The wretch, 
still dizzy from his recent performance, and assailed by the 
jeers of his tormentors, availed himself of this permission and 
fled with the precipitancy of one who escapes from some ter- 
rible danger. 

Palaestrion had come down from his curule chair. 

“ Regulus !” he cried, when the informer was at some dis- 
tance, “ I am no longer thy judge, but I made an oath and 
it must be fulfilled !” 

Then, calling Cerberus, he pointed out to him the retreat- 
ing form of the informer. The dog sprang after him with 
the speed of an arrow. A few bounds sufficed him to over- 
take Regulus, who uttered a terrible cry and turned to throw 
on Palaestrion a look full of deadly hate. 

“Cerberus! Cerberus! enough! come back, sir !” Palaes- 
trion called to his dog ; and his voice had a satisfied and tri- 
umphant tone. He had kept his word and consummated his 
vengeance. At the sound of his master’s voice, the obedient 
dog had let go the leg into which he had inserted his sharp- 
pointed row of teeth , he returned quietly bringing with him 
a piece of Regulus’ tunic as a trophy. 

Palaestrion was carried in triumph to the banquet of the 
last night of the Saturnalia. 

On the next morning he had resumed his chain in the por- 
ter’s lodge for another year. So he thought at least, for the 
poor wretch could not foresee what was about to happen. 

Regulus, notwithstanding his cruel mishap, had not re- 
nounced his design of advising the Emperor of Metellus Co- 
lor’s capture. He arrived at the Palatine-House, still trem- 
bling with rage and fear, and thirsting for revenge, but pre- 
pared to dissemble in order the better to secure it. At sight 
of the informer’s haggard looks and disordered dress, Domi- 
tian was struck with surprise. 

“What is the matter with you, Regulus?” he asked, 
‘ ' and what has happened ?” 

“ Nothing worth mentioning, my lord ... As I passed 
through the Forum some miserable slaves insulted mo . . . 
But I would not delay the important news I bring you . . . 
Metellus Celer will be in Rome to-morrow . . He is in sure 
hands !” 


298 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ Have you witnesses to secure liis condemnation?” asked 
the Emperor with an eagerness which proved that this news 
did not find him indifierent. 

“ Yes, my lord, we have three whose confession leave no 
doubt as to the intimate relations existing between Metellus 
Celer and the Grand-Vestal. Those three witnesses are; 
Misitius, the flutist at the sacrifices, the same who corres- 
ponded with Lucius Antonius, and who also had charge of 
delivering to Cornelia the letter of Metellus Celer which you 
have read; Gellia, the wife of the same Misitius, and, 
finally, Palaestrion, the porter-slave of your niece Aurelia.” 

‘ ‘ Have those people said what they know ?” 

“ No, my lord,” replied the informer, with a wicked smile. 
“ But Ravinus is there, and he is a great master in the art 
of making those speak who wish to preserve an ill-timed 
silence.” 

“Very well, Begulus. This very night I shall convene 
the college of Pontiffs . '. . and to-morrow ...” 

“ My lord,” said the informer, interrupting Homitian, “to 
night will be the last night of the Saturnalia ; during which 
no sentence can be pronounced . . It will be perhaps better 
to wait until to-morrow night . . I require this delay, more- 
over, in order to give you more complete proofs.” 

“ So be it, then,” said the Emperor. “ I shall be to-mor- 
row night in my house in Alba . . See that the evidence be 
laid in proper time before the pontiff's, so as to avoid all hesi- 
tancy . . Go, I rely on your zeal.” 

Begulus made an obeisance to the Emperor, and left the 
Palatine-House, with his heart filled with the first joy he had 
tasted on that fatal day. Instead of returning home, he now 
sought the shortest road to arrive at the cave dug into the 
most rugged side of Mount Esquiline, and which served as 
an habitation for the mysterious Bavinus. It was late in the 
night when he reached the cave. Bavinus was asleep. 

“ Get up ! Bavinus, I must speak to you !” cried the in- 
former, shaking him roughly. 

Bavinus growled, pretty much as a bear would if disturbed 
in his lair, and arising from the wild beast’s skin which served 
him the purpose of a bed, stood up in all the majesty of his 
colossal statiu’e. 

“It is me! it is Begulus!” the informer prudently has- 
tened to say. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


299 


Ravinus blew upon the aslies in his hearth and lighted a 
pine torch which he made fast against the rocky wall of the 
(Save : 

^ “ Here I am,” he then Replied to Regulus, as he seated 
himself on a rough bench. “ What is it that you wish ? . . 
Bpeak ...” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE DEN OF WOES. 

T he pine torch lighted two things : the cave of Ravinus, 
and Ravinus himself. Both were horrible to look at. . 
Imagine a recess of moderate width, but the depth of 
which, shrouded in darkness, could not be estimated. Rough 
masonry work, whose stones were blackened by time or green- 
coated by dampness, supported the earth and prevented slides. 
In whichever direction the eye wandered in this fearful abode,, 
it met not a single familiar article of household furniture^ but 
objects of strange and terrible shapes — some suspended from 
the ceiling or hung on the walls^ others lying on the floor or 
sealed into some enormous block of wood or stone. 

These fearful objects which make one shudder as he looks 
at them, are instruments of torture. It would be difficult ta 
enumerate them all, and we have no desire to entertain the 
reader with their hideous nomenclature. 

Ravinus is the public executioner, the torturer, who lives 
alone, far from all human beings, rejected by Rome which he 
is not permitted to inhabit. There never was a more fright- 
ful type of ancient barbarity. Over his hairy shoulders, to 
which hang athletic arms, appears an enormous head crowned 
with red hair as coarse and shaggy as that of Calydon’s boar. 

No feeling of pity ever softened his savage features, lighted 
by round eyes that roll vacantly under bushy eyebrows. 
Ravinus is the embodiment of stupidity, but it is cruelty, 
not idiotcy which has destroyed his intellect. The shrieks 
of suffering can alone rouse him from his apathy. When the 
victim begs for mercy, he replies by a frightful smile ; when 
the bones crushed by the instrument of torture pierce through 
the flesh, Ravinus is in ecstacies. 


300 


AURELIA; OR, 


The life of this wretch had passed amidst the tears and 
groans of victims. Almost every day he was sent for by 
matrons whose delicate hands would have tired chastising 
their slaves. He would then strike with such fury that, un- 
less he was stopped, death inevitably followed, as it happened 
in the case of the unhappy Doris. 

Sometimes also^ but much less often, poor wretches were 
sent to his cave, to be tortured; he marked those days with 
a white pebble and dreamed of them in his sleep. 

Such was the man whose services Regulus came to secure. 
Their interview was short and decisive. 

On the evening of the following day, towards the tenth 
hour, the interior of Ravinus’ den was illuminated by the 
red glare of a large fire. Two aids were already preparing 
the instruments of torture. Prominent amidst the iron claws, 
the pincers and the sharp blades heating in this fire wus an 
iron chair which had been brought to a white heat and emit- 
ted sparks. 

AVithout, the night was dark and the icy December wind 
blew furiously. The snow-flakes fell thick and fast, and 
swept by the storm, penetrated into the cave and fell, hissing, 
on the red coals. 

A chariot stopped at the entrance of the den, and a party 
of men, alighting from it, entered the gloomy abode of Ra- 
vinus. These men were the pontiffs, accompanied by their 
scribe who was to take down the depositions of the victims. 
They were followed by Marcus Regulus. 

Soon, the distant noise of numerous steps, with which 
mingled occasionally the most heart-rending shrieks, was 
heard. The victims were approaching. Three litters, borne 
by vigorous slaves, now halted at the mouth of the cave and 
were immediately surrounded by Ravinus and his aids. They 
drag out their prey and the slaves withdraw. 

Ravinus returns near the fire, carrying in his arms a young 
woman, whose cries of terror he smothers with his large hand, 
lie drops her on the damp soil of the cave. It is Grellia, the 
graceful, lively little woman. She has fainted. 

Misitius came in next, struggling manfully against one of 
tlie torturer’s aids. At the sight of his wife, lying senseless 
on the soil, the poor flutist uttered a shriek of rage and made 
a desperate effort to free himself. But a fearful blow struck 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


301 


behind his head stretched him, lifeless, near Gellia. The 
aids, picking him up, carried him to the rack placed in readi- 
ness in an angle of the cave, and tied him securely by the 
hands and feet upon the fearful instrument. 

Finally, Palajstrion made his appearance, led by one of 
the aids. 

The poor fellow seemed struck with stupor. He walked 
submissively, but staggering like a drunken man, not under- 
standing why he was brought there, and scarcely able to see 
what was going on around him. 

But his wandering eyes at last rested upon Begulus, whom 
he recognized by the lurid glare of the fire. At this sight, 
his chest heaved convulsively, his teeth chattered, but fear 
paralyzed his tongue. He knew now where he was and who 
had brought him there. Another glance had shown him Ba- 
vinus, the public executioner, the fearful spectre that haunted 
the dreams of slaves ! 

A few hours before, Paloestrion was sitting in his lodge, 
thinking of the glorious Saturnalia which could return only 
in another year ; and thinking also, perhaps, with grim joy 
of the vengeance wreaked upon Marcus Regulus. Suddenly, 
armed men entered his lodge, struck off the fetters, mark of 
his bondage, and proceeded to bind his wrists. He invoked 
the name of his noble mistress whose house was thus forcibly 
entered, but the men replied that they acted by order of the 
Emperor, and the uoor slave dared not resist the supreme 
authority. 

It was also in the name of the Emperor that Misitius and 
Gellia were ordered to enter the separate litters in which they 
had been brought. Giellia felt a fearful presentiment that 
Misitius was lost and she would die with him. This is why 
she gave vent to her groans and shrieks, during the journey. 
Misitius, remembering the declaration signed by Regulus to 
the effect that he had voluntarily revealed the conspiracy of 
Lucius Antonins, felt more hopeful. It was only when they 
alighted at the entrance of the torturer’s cave, that new mis- 
givings rushed to his mind, and the rough manner in which 
he saw his wife seized by Ravinus, roused his ire. 

But the three victims were now in the power of their per- 
secutors. 

Ravinus,' taking a huge pair of tongs, pulled the iron chair 

26 


302 


AURELIA; OR, 


from the fire, and made a step towards Palmstrion. The 
poor slave threw himself at the feet af Marcus Regulus, cry- 
ing in heart-rending accents : 

Mercy ! 0 mercy ! my lord.’^ 

The informer smiled, and replied coldly : 

“ Palaestrion, yesterday at the Forum, did you listen to 
me when I, also, craved mercy at your hands ? . . . More- 
over, I am not the master here ; you are in the hands of the 
pontiffs who themselves, only obey the will of the Em- 
peror.” 

And he made a sign to Ravinus. The torturer clasped the 
slave in his powerful arms, and lifting him, as he would have 
done a child, seated him on the red-hot chair, where an iron 
band held him fast. 

The shriek that escaped Palmstrion’s lips would have moved 
the most obdurate heart ; Ravinus replied to it by a savage 
laugh! . . . Palaestrion howled, screamed and foamed at the 
mouth ; Ravinus revived the fire, tightened the screws and 
continued to laugh. 

But God has not placed the infinite in pain ; there comes a 
time when in the midst of tortures the power to feel seems 
exhausted. 

Soon, under the rapid action of the fire, Paljestrion only 
groaned feebly, and Ravinus no longer laughed. Nothing 
was heard now but the crepitation of the flesh as it burned, 
and the crackling of the bones as they were bursted by the 
action of the fire. This was the proper time to commence 
the interrogatory. 

Palaestrion, the porter-slave of Aurelia’s house, had been 
necessarily a witness of the numerous visits paid by Metellus 
Celer to the Grand-Yestal whilst the latter was the guest of 
the Emperor’s niece, and he must have surprised some facts 
tending to prove the alleged intimacy, or, at least, must have 
learned those facts from the conversations of the other slaves. 

The patient must be made, at all cost, to reveal these facts. 
One of the pontiffs and the scribe approached . . . But why 
repeat the questions asked of a wretch whose will, conquered 
by the most atrocious pain, must necessarily succumb, and 
whose life, besides, -was fast ebbing. The pontiffs obtained 
all the avowals they wanted. Palaestrion merely replied yes 
or no, according to the nature of the question. When tliey 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


303 


released him from the iron chair, the poor slave was dying. 
His body was but a mass of carbonized flesh. They threw 
him in a corner where he soon expired. 

Kavinus then passed to the rack upon which Misitius lay, 
still senseless. A turn of the screw, which distended pain- 
fully his limbs, soon awoke him from his torpor. 

Gellia had been confided to the care of one of the aids. 
She had not yet recovered from her swoon, but the pressure 
of the clogs on her ankles soon revived her. 

The flutist and his wife should be tortured at the same 
lime. So Eegulus had decided after due reflection ; for, 
should either possess personal firmness, he still hoped to con- 
quer Misitius through Gellia’s sufferings, and Gellia through 
her husband’s tortures. 

The confessions of these young people were of more im- 
portance even than Palaestrion’s, for, Misitius, who carried 
Metellus Celer’s letters, and most probably Cornelia’s answers, 
must have known what this correspondence contained ; and 
Gellia must have learned it from Misitius. 

Then, had not Misitius played the flute whilst Regulus 
was being tossed in the air ! 

We shall not dwell upon the description of the rack which 
distended horribly the limbs, breaking the articulations ; nor 
the clogs which, placed above the ankles, crushed them slowly 
by a gradual pressure. Neither shall we describe the hot 
steel points, the sharp claws and hundred like implements 
used to multiply the sufferings of the victims. These fearful 
inventions of Roman barbarity will be found fully described 
in the works of ancient writers, and particularly in the Acts 
of the Martyrs. 

The sufferings of these young people, their youth and 
Gellia’s beauty, presented such a moving sight that Helvius 
Agrippa, who had already shown pity at Palaestrion’s tortures, 
proposed to release Misitius and his wife before their limbs 
were hopelessly injured. 

Marcus Regulus darted a sinister look at this too humane 
priest. 

The other pontiffs replied that the orders of the Emperor 
were to spare no pains to arrive at a complete proof. 

Misitius claimed that the declaration given to him by Reg- 
ulus was a safeguard which could not be violated without 
perjury. 


304 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ "What are you complaining about?” replied the informer, 
with ironical and frightful calm. “ You are not persecuted 
for the Lucius Antonius conspiracy. The matter for which 
you are here is simply concerning Metellus Celer and the 
Grand-'V^estal, whose culpable intrigues you have favored, 
and whose incest you have prepared.” 

‘ ‘ That is false 1” cried the unfortunate flutist, ‘ ‘ I know 
nothing of this ! . . ” 

“ Wo shall see about that, directly,” replied Regulus. 

‘ ‘ I am a citizen ! . . . Gellia is uxor . . . These titles 
protect us ! . . . We cannot be put to the torture ! . . . ” 

Under the Republic, in Cicero’s time, this Roman cry, this 
invocation of the city’s rights, would have saved Misitius and 
Gellia ; but the era of the Tiberius, the Neros and the Domi- 
tians did not admit this means of escaping from the cruelty 
of tyrants. Had not the Emperor shed the blood of the most 
illustrious citizens, and invented the most horrible tortures 
for them ? 

Ravinus turned the crank of the rack ; his aid tightened 
the clogs. 

‘ ‘ Dear Misitius !” 

“ Poor Gellia!” 

Such were the first cries simultaneously uttered. 

‘ ‘ I lost you ! . . I lost you !” repeated the unhappy hus- 
band, who seemed to feel only his wife’s pain. 

‘ ‘ Misitius . . dear Misitius ! . . is it not to you I owe my 
life and happiness ?” exclaimed Gellia, who, having lost all 
hope, commenced to show an admirable courage. 

“Confess! confess what you know, and the torture will 
stop !” said the pontiffs. 

“ You are monsters!” replied Gellia, groaning painfully. 

It is a good time to stop, when my poor crushed feet will 
never bear me up any more ! . . Do what you will with me, 
now ! . . I know nothing ! . . . You cannot wrench a single 
word of falsehood from me !” 

The aid increased the pressure of the clogs to such an ex- 
tent, that the unfortunate little woman writhed with pain and 
uttered fearful shrieks, but she still repeated with energy : 

‘ ‘ I know nothing ! . . I shall say nothing ! . . I will not 
lie ! . . It shall not be said that I have been an accomplice 
in your crimes !” 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


305 


Misitius, although bound fast, was making tremendous 
efforts to come to his wdfe’s assistance. 

“ My lords, my lords,” cried the unfortunate Misitius, and 
his voice would have moved a wild beast. ‘ ‘ I call the gods 
to witness ! Gellia knows nothing . . Cease torturing her . . 
I alone received the letters ...” 

“ What were their contents ?” 

I have never read them ...” 

“ Who handed them to the Grand- Vestal ?” 

“ An unknown person ...” 

' ‘ You know something else 2” 

“No! . . For mercy’s sake, my lords, release Gellia . . ” 

A new turn of the crank prevented Misitius from saying 
more. The poor fellow uttered piercing shrieks. 

Astonished by a resistance to which he was not accustomed, 
Kavinus multiplied his elTorts. His cruel laugh no longer 
added to the horror of the scene. Helv .us Agrippa mingled 
his useless prayers to the agonizing groans of the victims. 

Soon their limbs were reduced to a sort of bloody pulp 
which could not be distended any further by the rack or 
crushed by the clogs. The hot copper blades and iron claws 
were then brought into use to revive pain in those e.vhausted 
• odies which hardly j^reserved strength enough to writhe 
under the burning embrace of the heated iron instruments. 

Ilelvius Agrippa, as Dion Cassius testifies, could bear no 
longer the sight of this fearful agony, and dropped dead 
from sheer horror. 

This incident did not stop the cruel work. Ravinus and 
his men called in aid all their ingenuity, while Marcus Reg- 
ulus and the pontiffs, bending over the dying victims, listened 
eagerly for their last words. But their lips clenched in the 
last throes of death, now uttered but faint groans. Misitius, 
however, made a supreme effort : 

“Save Gellia!” he said faintly, “save Gellia! I am 
going to confess ...” 

“ Misitius ! . . . Misitius ! . . .” cried the brave young 
woman, gathering the little strength that was left in her for 
this noble appeal, “my body is but a crushed, bleeding 
mass, you cannot save me ! . . . Bo not give those mon- 
sters the satisfaction of having uselessly vanquished us. . . 
I am dying. . . Farewell. . . dear husband . . . farewell !” 

26 * 


306 


AURELIA i OR, 


She is dead !” exclaimed a pontiff. 

Misitius uttered a cry of rage, and expired, hurling a 
last curse at his torturers. 

Eavinus could gloat over his work. Four dead bodies 
were lying at his feet. 

Marcus Eegulus and the pontiffs got into their chariot and 
hastened to meet Domitian, who awaited them with the col- 
lege of pontiffs to decide upon this serious religious accu- 
sation. 

This is all that was ever known concerning the man- 
ner in which Cornelia’s death was resolved on that fatal 
night. 


CHAPTEE XIX. 

CLEMENS CALLS ON GURGES. 

T he venerable pontiff of the Christians was kneeling in 
prayer before the image of the Crucified Saviour, when 
two young women, panting with haste and emotion, and 
their faces bathed with tears, entered precipitately his humble 
abode. 

“ My lord ! my lord ! . . . save the Grand-Vestal! . . . 
She has been condemned ! . . . The sentence is being 
executed ! . . . She will perish 1 . . .” 

Thus spoke, together, Aurelia and Cecilia, for it was they 
who had sought the venerable Clemens. 

“ My lord I my lord !” repeated the former as she embraced 
the pontiff’s feet; “save Cornelia! . . . Save her who 
has been a mother to me ! . . . Oh save her, my lord ! . . .” 

“ Else, madam,” said the holy priest, “it is God alone 
to whom we must pray kneeling ! . . . What,” he resumed, 
“ can it be that they have pronounced that barbarous sen- 
tence? . . .” 

Clemens, since his interview with the Grand-Vestal, 
watched over her with fatherly solicitude. He foresaw that 
the day was not far when he should hear of her condemna- 
tion. He was not surprised, therefore, at this news, although 
the march of events had been so rapid that he would be so. 
soon called upon to keep the promise made to her for whom 
he implored the assistance of heaven. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


307 


“My lord! . . . she is in the hands of the pontiffs,” 
exclaimed the divine Aurelia, in answer to the question of 
the man of Grod. “ They have torn her from my arms. . . 
The cruel men. . . They would not listen to my prayers. . . 
And when I spoke as the niece of the Emperor, they told 
me I must submit to his orders. . . Ah ! my lord. . . You 
alone can help Cornelia. . . I have beseeched Domitian 
himself. . . and I have been harshly repulsed ! . . .” 

The tears of the young girl would not permit her to 
proceed 

“My lord,” said Cecilia, scarcely less moved than her 
friend, “ what we have seen is fearful ! . . .” 

“ What has happened asked Clemens. “ My daughter, 
it is important that 1 should be completely informed. . . . 
Conceal nothing from me. . 

“ Father,” replied the young woman, “for several days 
past my noble mistress and I hawe not left the Grand-Vestal, 
who was continually in prey to the most sinister forebodings. . . 
Y'esterday, these sad presentiments increased so fearfully that 
we remained with her the whole night. . . Alas ! her invol- 
untary terror was but too well founded ! 

“ 1 spoke to her of you, father, and of the strength with 
which our God has clothed you ; but she said your hopes 
were vain . . . and that if she were to fall into the abyss, 
your hands would be powerless t*o rescue her. I endeavored 
to drive away those thoughts of bitter despair, the best way 
I could. . . I read to her pas -ages from our sacred books, 
where Christian souls find comfort in learning resignation. . . 
My noble mistress united her efforts with mine. . . She 
spoke of her influence near the Emperor, whose beloved 
niece she was. . .” 

“ I believed it! ... Oli ! yes, T believed it . . . but it 
is not so 1 . . .” interrupted Aurelia, and her voice was 
tremulous with emotion and wounded pride. 

“But,” resumed Cecilia, “it was impossible to soothe 
the involuntary anguish which now and then caused the 
unfortunate Vestal to start and shudder. At other times 
her courage would revive, and she would try to smile at her 
fears. But there was an hour when a strange delirium came 
upon her suddenly. . . Was it a vision . . . or simply the 
effect of a morbid fancy ? . . . It seemed as if she were 


808 


AURELiA; OR, 


surrounded by shadows, and bloody spectres had risen before 
her in the darkness. . . She moved her hands to push them 
back, and cried in broken words, full of anguish: ‘ I see 
them ! . . . They are dying ! . . . They are murdered ! . . . 
I am innocent! . . . This is horrible! . . . Oh! the 
monsters! . . . They triumph! . . . Torture has put 
me ill their power ! . . .’ And she fell back^ exhausted by 
this scene of feverish excitement, which was the last during 
that night of woes ! 

“ When morning came, she was calm; it seemed that her 
fears had vanished. . . She was conversing quietly with 
us, and expressing regret at the uneasiness and trouble she 
had caused us, when a great tumult of voices was heard at 
the doors — still closed at that early hour — of the Atrium 
Regium. 

“‘Here they are !’ she cried shuddering, ‘I had not 
deceived myself! . . . They come to lead me to execution ! . . 
They sentenced me during the night 1’ 

“But, singular to relate, her voice no longer had that 
wild tone which had so much frightened us. . . The pontiffs 
then entered the room in which wo were assembled, and 
apprized her very abruptly, that the Emperor had pronounced 
her guilty, and she must follow them. AVe remained thunder- 
struck, while Cornelia, raising her hands to heaven, invoked 
Vesta and her other gods, and repeated this exclamation : 
What ! Ccesar j^ronounces me incestuous, I whose sacrifices 
have made him conquer, have made him triumph ! (*) 

“Oh! father, as a Christian, I suffered to see her thus 
confiding still in the false gods who caused her loss. . . But 
I admired her courage, and I was astoni.shed at her proud 
demeanor. . . I am but a poor daughter of the people, and 
I had but my tears with which to move those who had already 
seized this innocent virgin. My noble mistress, the daughter 
of the Caesars, humbled herself before these men, and 
besecched them — she has told you so, herself, O father, they 
would not even listen to her! . . .” 

“My lord,” resumed Aurelia, “ when she whom, since 
my infancy, I venerated as my own mother, had disappeared, 
I ran, almost distracted, to the palace, to ask her release of 


C*) Pliny, Lib. iv., ep. 11. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


309 


the Emperor. . . He, also, had returned to Rome with all 
haste, doubtless in order to preside as High-Pontiff at this 
barbarous execution. 

“ How can I describe to you my anguish? My lord, I 
dragged myself in the dust. . . I called upon Homitian in 
the dearest names. . . But he remained immovable .... 
implacable ! . . . He repulsed me, his niece, with angry 
gestures and passionate words, among which your name, that 
of my relations and my own were frequently mingled. . . . 
He spoke of the Christians with fearful threats. . . His 
vengeance would soon reach them ! . , Finally, the Empe- 
ror, from whom I had hitherto received but kindness, no 
longer controlled his passion ... he even went so far as to 
designate me as the accomplice of I know not what secret 
scheme, which he intended to punish in the most striking 
manner. 

“ After an hour of vain efforts to move his pity, I left the 
palace, feeling less fear of Horaitian’s anger than despair at 
not having obtained mercy for the dear friend about to perish 
amidst the most fearful torments! ... I then remem- 
bered, my lord, that Cornelia, in her delirium, last night, 
said that the pontiff of the Christians had promised to save 
her, but she placed little reliance on this promise, as its ful- 
fillment was impossible. 

“ I have come to you with Cecilia, who has sustained my 
courage, by telling me that I must have faith in your 
words, and if you had made this promise, it would be real- 
ized! . . . My lord ! my lord! perhaps the Grand- Vestal, 
notwithstanding her doubts, still entertains some hope ! . . . 
It would be dreadful if at the supreme hour she could think 
that you have deceived her ! . . . Oh ! I conjure you, if 
indeed it be in your power, to save her from that awful 
fate !” 

“ Madam, said the pontiff, a poor old man like me is weaker 
than all other men, and by myself I can do nothing ! . . . . 
But the God I serve is master of life and death, and it 
was in His name I made a promise which I have not forgot- 
ten ! . . . Be comforted, madam, and hope in His almighty 
power ! . . . I am going to ask Him to guide my steps and 
to assist me in what I shall undertake ! . . . I have an 
abiding confidence that your desires and mine will be granted.” 


810 


AURELIA; OR, 


The priest knelt and raised his venerable hands to heaven. 
Cecilia, kneeling at his side, commenced to pray fervently. 
The daughter of the Caesars imitating this example, bowed 
her head for the first time to the God of the Christians. 

After a short invocation, the pontiff rose, and taking his 
pilgrim’s staff, prepared to depart. 

“ Madam,” he said to Aurelia, “return to your home . . , 
and let hope follow you. . I shall not prevent the barbar- 
ous execution which all Rome will witness. . . But I shall 
give back to you the friend whose life you came to ask me. . . 
Go, madam . . . and let me commence my work.” 

“ What, my lord,” exclaimed the young girl deeply moved 
by so much devotion, but surprised and uneasy about the 
old man’s safety ; “what ! you are starting alone ! . . Whither 
are you going ? . . . Is it thus you will save the Grand- 
Vestal? . . . Permit me to unite my efforts to yours ! . . . 
Riches . . . slaves . . . litters ... all that I possess is yours . . 
You will need these resources to insure success !” 

“ Madam,” replied Clemens, with a gentle smile, “I am 
the pastor of a people, little numerous it is true, but which 
would rise as one man and accompany me to Rome, if I said 
but one word ! You see that arms would not be wanting, 
and that I can dispense with your slaves ! . . . I do not 
wish to corrupt any one,. and, therefore, all the treasures of 
the earth would be of no use to me. . . As for your litters, 
this staff will suffice to sustain my old age. . . I need only 
the protection of my God. . . Return to Rome, madam, 
and carry with you the hope that Providence will deign to 
rescue from the abyss, the innocent virgin for whom we have 
prayed together !” 

Aurelia took the hand of the venerable priest and carried 
it respectfully to her lips, bathing it with grateful tears, and 
Clemens then departed. 

From the day the holy old man had acquired the convic- 
tion that sooner or later, Bomitian would plunge the Grand- 
Vestal into the vault of the Campus Sceleratus, he had resolved 
to save her. He knew that the Vestal buried alive would 
live two days and perhaps more, in that subterranean abode 
where everything was arranged to secure the lingering death 
of the victim. When, therefore, the slab which closed the 
entrance to the shaft would be sealed and covered with earth, 


THE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


311 


and superstitious terror would make the spot a solitude, 
prayer, that mute supplication to Him who is all powerful, 
would ascend above this abyss of despair, and God would 
manifest his power. 

But Clemens did not wish a crowd of spectators to witness 
the miracle, which faith, that power by which mountains are 
moved, already showed him as being accomplished in the 
darkness of night. He sought not to astonish Rome by some 
prodigy which might draw persecution upon his brethren, 
but merely to save from a horrible death the virgin who, at 
the last hour, would remember perhaps his promise. 

One devoted man would suffice besides, and from the first 
time he had met him, he had foreseen that Gurges would be 
this man. And the more he had studied him, the more he 
had become convinced that the designator of funerals would 
not refuse to give shelter to the Grand- Vestal, and conceal 
her from all investigations, if it should be suspected that 
the virgin buried in the bowels of the earth, had been rescued 
from a certain death. 

This is why Clemens had told Gurges that he would pro- 
bably come to him one day. And this why the holy priest, 
entering Rome by the Capena-gate, went to knock at the 
door of the most fervent worshipper of Venus-Libitina, the 
goddess of funerals. 

“The pontiff of the Christians,” exclaimed Gurges, aston- 
ished beyond measure at the sight of the old man ; ‘ ‘ Oh ! my 
lord ! . . . my lord ! . . .” 

And the designator, unable to restrain his emotion, burst 
into tears. The poor fellow was in great trouble. Not only he 
had learned, like everybody else in Romo, the great news of 
the Grand-Vestal’s sentence, but the pmtiffs — and this was 
what made him indignant as well as sorrowful — had sent for 
the finest funeral litter in his shop, to carry the victim to the 
place of execution. Gurges had refused, had even offered 
resistance; but the pretorians who brought the order, 
made short work of the designator and his vespillos, and the 
litter, forcibly obtained, might be even now bearing the 
Grand-Vestal towards the Campus Sceleratus. 

To the sorrow felt by the good designator was now 
mingled a bitter anxiety ; wbat if the unfortunate Cornelia 
should think that he, Gurges — a man whom she had honored 


312 


AURELIA; OR, 


with her esteem — had consented to furnish one of the instru- 
ments of her torture ! And besides, how could he bear the 
idea that she had been carried to her death in the very litter 
which he used on great occasions only, when he wished to do 
special honor to Venus Libitina. 

“ Oh ! my lord ! my lord,” repeated Gurges in his trouble, 
“ if you only knew!” 

“ I know it, my son,” replied Clemens, who did not under- 
stand the full import of this exclamation. “Yes, the Gran^- 
Vestal is going to perish !” 

And as the apparent grief of the designator seemed to 
offer a good opportunity for broaching the important subject, 
he continued : 

‘ ‘ Do you remember, Gurges, that I told you once : Some 
day perhaps I shall come to you as you have come to me ! and 
you replied : In any place, at any time, and for any cause, 
I devote myself to the pontiff of the Christians ! . . . I 
have remembered those words, and here I am ! . . . My 
son, I come to you to propose that together we shall save the 
Grand- Vestal.” 

Gurges recoiled upon hearing this unexpected proposition. 
But it was not simply with surprise ; there was fear in his 
involuntary motion. He looked around anxiously ; and sure 
that no indiscreet ear could hear his words, he approached 
near the pontiff. 

“ Can you think of it, my lord,” he whispered in his ear. 
“What! I save the Grand -Vestal ? . . . That is impos- 
sible !” 

“It can be done, Gurges. The victims buried in the 
vault of the Campus Sceleratus die only after a lingering 
agony ! . . . . You see therefore that it is possible !” 

Gurges understood, or thought he did, what the old man 
intended undertaking, and he shuddered as he muttered in a 
scarcely audible voice : 

“And religion? my lord. . . And the anger of the 
gods? . . .” 

Clemens could not refrain a smile. Gurges, in his great 
trouble, did not remember that he was speaking to the pontiff 
of the Christians. But the hesitancies to be conquered were 
inspired by the vain terrors of ancient superstition. 

“ My son,” said the pontiff, “ you seem to fear that we 
may be overheard. . . Take me to the most retired room 


TUB JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


313 


in your house. . . Perhaps I may prove to you that you 
condemn, yourself, a religion which commands such atroci- 
ties, and that you have nothing to fear from the anger of your 
powerless gods.” 

This mysterious interview between the pontiff of the 
Christians and the designator of pagan ceremonies, was quite 
protracted. When Gurges returned, accompanying Clemens 
to the door, he had accepted the proposal to unite his efforts 
with those of the old man. Yet, it could be seen that, not- 
withstanding his resolution, he was anxious and troubled. 

The pontiff continued to encourage him : 

“ Farewell, my son,” he said, as they parted; “your 
promise to serve me when I would call on you has not been 
vain. . . Thanks for your assistance! . . . Now, have 
confidence in the result; we shall succeed. At the appointed 
hour I shall wait for you near the tomb of that unfortunate 
woman whom I have promised to save. Until that solemn 
hour, farewell!” 

Clemens, when he found himself on the public way, war 
struck with the general silence and solitude of those street* 
and places, hitherto so noisy and full of life. 

The old man understood that this universal desolation wa»; 
in consequence of the great atonement which was being 
accomplished in the Campus Sceleratus. He stopped and 
looked in the direction of the fatal spot. 

“ O Rome,” he murmured, “ city of cursed impurities ! . . 
Thou mournest because thou believest that one of thy virgin* 
has broken her vows of chastity ! . . . Almighty God !' 
receive this homage to one of the greatest virtues of Thy 
faith, but Oh ! do not permit that this fearful sacrifice b» 
consummated. . . <- Sustain the victim against her own des- 
pair . . . until I shall come to deliver her in Thy name ! . .” 

The pontiff returned among his brethren, withdrew to thei 
solitude of his chamber, and remained wrapt in prayer until 
the time appointed for his meeting with Gurges. 

Meanwhile, the designator was plunged in deep medita^ 
tation. His feelings, when thinking of the awful undertak- 
ing in which he was about to embark, will be easily under- 
stood. However, Gurges did not hesitate. He even smiled 
at the thought that he would be the deliverer of the Grand- 
Vestal, and thereby remove the bad opinions she might hav» 
27 


314 AURELIA; OR, 

formed concerning the litter he had been compelled to let 
the pontiffs use. 

Clemens had easily awakened in this generous nature, hor- 
ror for the cruel deed about to be committed, and dissipated 
his vain apprehension of the anger of the gods. 

On the other hand, the former Yespiilo who had so often 
broken into the tombs to procure the teeth and hair which he 
sold to Eutnipeles, could hardly be deterred by scruples of 
conscience from undertaking the proposed expedition. But 
was the thing feasible V He had believed it so, at first, but 
now, the more he thought of it, the greater the difficulty 
appeared. Shaking his head dubiously, our friend Ourges 
soliloquized, as was his wont, in the tbilowiiig manner ; 

“ It is possible, said the pontiff of the Christians. . . 
Yes, it is possible, with the assistance of a certain number of 
Vespillos ! . . But we must be alone, this old man and I. . . 
It is true that it would not be prudent to associate others to 
this undertaking! . . But what shall we do? The vault 
is closed with a wall against which the earth is piled up to 
the level of the ground. Will my efforts suffice to destroy 
all this work of llavinus and his aids? . . Well! let us 
suppose that we have got the Grand-Vestal out of that vault. 
What shall we do with her? Ahead of hair or a handful 
of teeth may be hidden under one’s tunic, and nobody the 
wiser ! . . But this means of concealment cannot be applied 
to a woman ! . . This Christian pontiff has not foreseen 
objections which are quite serious ! . . We must, however, 
get out of this dilemma ! . .” 

Thereupon, Gurges fell again in deep thought, and taxed 
his imaginative faculties to their utmost capacity. A vague 
smile soon flitted upon his lips, announcing that the solution 
of the problem was presenting itself to his mind. He was 
thinking of the small, solitary house in which Cecilia had 
formerly lived with her father, and which, ever since their 
removal, he had stoutly refused to let out, looking reveren- 
tially upon it as the sanctuary of his first affections. It iscer- 
tain that the Grand-Vestal could remain in security for some 
time, at least, in this shelter. But how get her there? The 
distance was great from the Campus Sceleratus to the Maxi- 
mus Circus, near which this little house was situated. - It 
was necessary to cross nearly the entire width of the city of 
Borne; and wliat might not happen during this long journey ? 


THE JE^y8 OF CAP ENA GATE. 


r>15 

But Gurges rejoiced in difficulties; and when he had once 
got hold of his first idea, the others were not long following. 
His plan was soon made. Casting olf all anxiety from his 
countenance, ho called four of his strongest vespillos, and 
gave them his orders. 

They were to prepare his best closed litter, in such a way 
as to give it a gloomy and funeral appearance outside ; l)ut 
its interior should be lined witii the whitest and softest wooi, 
and decorated with wreaths of fiowers. On the following: 
night, towards the twelfth hour, they were to go with thislit- 
ter, under the portico of the temple of Safety ; to bandage their • 
eyes as soon as they would arrive there, and to wait silent and 
motionless until his arrival. = 

“ I shall not be long coming,” continued Gurges, “preced- 
ing a person who will then enter the litter, and who must not 
be seen I . . Let him tremble who would infringe this 
command! . . He would fall dead at my feet I . But I shall 
immediately untie your bandages; and you will then carry 
the litter, on a run, as far as my little house near the Fla- • 
minius Circus. There you will stop and leave us ! What is 
to follow is my look out 1” 

And with an inimitable gesture of triumph, the designator 
sent off his vespillos. They withdrew, convinced that their 
master had an appointment for the next evening with some 
high-born matron, whose imprudence must remain slirouded 
in mystery. 

From that time until the hour of departure, Gurges 
remained invisible, in his private room, busy with prepara- 
tions which none could have suspected. 

But whilst so many persons are working for the safety of 
the Grand-Vestal, let us see what had taken place in Pvome 
on that day, and what had become of Cornelia since she had 
fallen into the hands of the pontiffs. 


816 


AURELIA; OR^ 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE EXECUTION. 

T he news of the Grand- Vestal’s sentence had spread in 
Rome, early in the morning, with that swiftness peculiar 
io certain events which strike the multitude with terror. 
Instantly, the immense city had been shrouded in gloom. 
The Courts were suspended, and the magistrates ceased their 
functions ; the citizens left their occupations and closed the 
-doors of their houses ; everywhere, in the place of motion 
and the joys of life, appeared the image of desolation and 
death. 

The Forum was silent I 

Not that it was deserted, but the immense crowd which 
filled it was awe-struck with the solemnity of the occasion, 
and the voices anon so loud and noisy, now scarcely rose 
above a whisper. It was particularly in this usually lively 
centre of Roman life, that the solemn, gloomy and imposing 
picture of public consternation was more apparent. 

In the midst of this sinister calmness, might be discerned 
a secret impatience to see the moment arrive when the suffer- 
ings of the victims would commence in the various phases 
©f this atonement. In every time aod every place, the 
multitude evinces the same cruel instincts. 

The spectacle which was to gratify the morbid curiosity of 
.'the Romans, was divided into three distinct parts ; The fla- 
gellation of the virgin condemned for incest ; the execution 
«f her seducer, in the centre of the Forum ; the march of the 
funeral procession which would cross the city to conduct the 
Vestal to the Campus Sceleratus. 

Ancient usage, a last feeling of respect for public modesty, 
prohibited the multitude from assisting at the first tortures 
©f the unfortunate who must only descend into the tomb when 
her flesh shall have been torn and bruised by the bloody lash 
©fthe pontiffs. 

Cornelia had suffered this painful ordeal. After being 
torn from the arms of Aurelia and Cecilia, she was led to a 
retired and dark room in the Atrium Regium, despoiled of 
her costume of priestess, and cruelly whipped by the unfeel- 


Tjl^L oEWS of cap ENA GATE. 


317 


ing pontiffs.* They stopped only when her strength failed 
and she could hear no more. 

They then decorated the victim. Funeral emblems were 
substituted for the virginal ornaments of the priestess ; and 
she was left alone and in the dark, to wait until the hour 
when she would enter the litter which would carry her to the 
grave. 

Meanwhile, a commotion has taken place in the Forum. 
The ranks of the silent multitude have opened to let pass a 
party of men — Ravinus and his aids — bearing a wooden gal- 
lows made in the shape of a fork. Above the fork is a scroll 
upon which is written in large black letters : 

“ Metellus Celer, Knight, Corrupter of the Grand- 
Vestal CORNSLIA.” 

AVhich meant that the unfortunate young man would bo 
torn with leaden-pointed whips until death would ensue ; for 
such was the fate awarded to the seducers of Vestals. 

Another undulation of the crowd showed that the victim 
was approaching. A litter, hermetically closed, was seen to 
leave the Comitium ; it was carried slowly acrose the Forum, 
and stopped at the foot of the gallows. A young man stepped 
out ; his face was pale with suffering and the certainty of 
death ; but so handsome, so noble, and disdainful withal, 
that the people moved with pity and a sympathetic admira- 
tion, uttered one of those exclamations which console suffering 
innocence while they make its oppressors tremble. 

This young man was Metellus Celer, who, brought to 
Rome by the agents of Marcus Regulus, had learned, but a 
few hours since, that he was sentenced to death. The unfor- 
tunate young patrician cast around him a look in which 
could be read not the desire to solicit mercy, but a sombre 
indignation. 

‘ ‘ Romans I” he cried, upon perceiving the scroll attached 
to the gallows, ‘ ‘ remember that this inscription is a false- 
hood ! . . . The Grand- Vestal has never transgressed her 
duty . . . and I die innocent !” 


* Nuda, quidem, sed obsenro loco, aut velo, medio interposito flagris Csede- 
batur. Titus-Livius, Lib. xxviii., Cap. 11, Valer-Max. Lib. 1, No. 16; Plut, 
Nwna, p. 67- 

27 * 


318 


AURELIA; OR, 


But the crowd, but now moved wiA compassion, remained 
stolid and silent, wrapt in the cruel expectation of the spec- 
tacle which was to follow. E,avinus laid his heavy hand on 
Metellus Celer, and commenced to strip him of his garments. 
In a moment the wretched young man was bound to tho 
forked gallows, in such a way as would facilitate the execu- 
tion. Then, llavinus commenced to strike slowly, for the 
flagellation must continue until the lettica bearing the Grrand- 
Vestal will pass near the Comitium, in order that the priestess 
may hear the agonizing shrieks and last groans of her alleged 
accomplice ! 

But Metellus Oder’s constancy defies the horrible pain 
caused by the leaden balls which bruise his fiesh at every 
blow of the whip. The words which escape his lips from 
time to time, are not words of supplication, but of indignant 
protest. 

‘ ‘ What have I done ?” he exclaims in a voice which grows 
fainter, “what have I done ? . . I have done nothing ! . . 

They could wrench no other cry from him, says Piiny- 
the-Younger, from whom we have borrowed the principal 
details of the double execution of Metellus Celer and Cor- 
nelia, which he has narrated with all the indignation of an 
honest soul.* 

Whilst the multitude witnessed, with varied emotions, this 
dow and cruel agony, a silent cortege left the Regium 

and wended its way through the Forum, by the V icus Tils- 
CHS. The sacerdotal college, formed in two ranks, escorted 
the Emperor wearing the costume of the High Pontiff, and 
walking behind a funeral lettica carried by eight slaves. 

This litter, taken forcibly from Gurges, had been securely 
closed on every side wiUi cushions fastened by leather 
thongs, so as not only to conceal the^victim from sight, but 
to smother the sound of her cries of despair. For it was 
feared that the sight of this beautiful virgin, condemned to 
the most horrible death, might awaken a dangerous compas- 
sion, and that her groans might find an echo in pitying 
hearts. 

As the gloomy procession advanced, the people gave way, 
then closed their ranks, and formed in its rear, to follow it 


* Pliny-the-Younger, Lib. iv., Epistll. 


TUE JEWS OF CAP EE A GATE. 


319 


to the Campus Sceleratus, where they would feast their eyes 
upon the last act of this dreadful drama. Not a voice broke 
the stillness of the atmosphere, which hung upon the great 
human crowd with the heaviness that indicates the approach- 
ing storm. 

Ravinus multiplies his blows. Metellus Celer, who still 
breathes, although his body is but one bruised, bleeding 
mass, must expire now, so that the executioner may join the 
passing cortege, and be ready to perform the important duties 
assigned to him by the sacred rites and ancient usages. It 
is he who, after the last invocation by the High PontitF, 
will lower the Grand- Vestal into the abyss, and seal the 
stone which will shut her off forever from the world. He 
roars with impatience ; the bloody whip cuts deeper into the 
flesh to seek a last remnant of vitality ! 

Metellus Celer seemed to revive under this new torment ; 
casting a languid look around him, he perceived the fatal 
litter ! Cornelia was there, about to die also, and he would 
see her no more ! This cruel sight completed the work which 
torture had prolonged. The unfortunate man’s body was 
convulsed by a desperate efibrt which shook the gallows ; a 
piercing shriek, the last, supreme cry of a despair too horri- 
ble to be borne, rent the air. Then, the rigid limbs became 
unbent, the head fell on the breast — Metellus Celer was 
dead. 

Did this last fearful cry reach the ears of the unfortunate 
Vestal ? . . Who knows ? Rut the lettica trembled on 
the shoulders of its bearers, and notwithstanding the cushions 
that mufiled the sound, a groan, full of anguish, mingled 
with the last sigh of Cornelia’s dying lover. 

Metellus Celer was spared another cruel pang. If death 
had not veiled his eyes and deprived him of hearing, he 
would have seen Marcus Regulus, who walked near the lit- 
ter, pause as he passed near him, and would have heard the 
vile informer address him this ironical remark : 

“ Well, Metellus, I told you so once ; take care the third 
time I shall find you on my way. . . This is no longer the 
day when Parmenon fell under your sword/’ 

Rut these words were addressed to a corpse, and Marcus 
Regulus turned away with the shame of his useless outrage. 

The litter stopped near the mouth of the shaft from which 


320 


AURELIA; OR, 


protruded the end of a ladder. Everything in the vault had 
been prepared in accordance with the ancient rites: the 
funeral bed was made, the bread, the water and the milk, 
last food of the victim, were placed near the couch, and a 
small lamp threw a dim light on these objects, leaving all 
around wrapt in darkness. Amidst the general silence, the 
slaves opened the litter, and the Grand- Vestal stepped forth. 

At the sight of this majestic virgin, scarcely able to stand 
up, the crowd could not restrain an exclamation of horror. 
Cornelia’s form was almost entirely concealed under the folds 
of a long black veil, her pale features being alone visible. 
But the involuntary weakness of the woman succumbing to 
physical suffering, was of short duration. Her eyes flash 
with scorn and pride as they rest on Domitian. As the High 
Pontiff, it will be his duty to place his hand upon her, and 
consign her to the infernal gods. But he seems to hesitate ; 
he dares not look at the victim he has condemned without a 
hearing. 

“ What stops you, Cassar, and why not consummate your 
work cried Cornelia, in a voice so ringing and clear, that 
all heard it. “ If I am guilty and incestuous, what is it 
that you wait for, to hurl me into the abyss?” 

The Emperor, angered and troubled by these scornful 
words, advanced hastily towards the Grand Vestal, and rais- 
ing his hands to heaven, recited in a low voice the secret 
prayers consecrated by the religious rites for this fearful 
atonement. 

Cornelia listened attentively. 

‘^Caesar,” she said, when the Emperor had finished his 
invocation, “you ask of the gods not to punish Borne for 
my crime. . . And I have prayed a God more powerful 
than those you invoke, not to visit upon the Boman people 
the injustice of my sentence. May you, Caesar, feel one 
day remorse and repentance for having ordered my execu- 
tion. . .” 

And turning to the people : 

“ Bomans,” she cried in a loud voice, “I die innocent of 
all crime ! . . The purity of this body which is about to 
perish, was never sullied. . . Priestess of Vesta . . I shall 
descend into my tomb with the virginity of my youth. Be- 
member my last words. . .” 


THE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


321 


She held out her hand to the Emperor. 

“ Caesar,” she said, “ guide me.” 

According to the rites, it was the duty of the High Pontiff 
to place the Vestal on the first steps of the ladder j after 
which he withdrew with the pontifical college, leaving to 
the executioner the care of leading the victim to the bottom 
of the shaft, and installing her in the vault. Domitian 
fulfilled this duty hastily, and fled, followed by the pon- 
tiffs, who hastened away like guilty wretches from a spec- 
tacle which inspired them with remorse and shame. 

Cornelia tarried awhile^ standing alone on the first step of 
the ladder. Remembering the promise of the Christian 
priest, she scanned the sea of faces around her, to detect 
a sign, a motion which would bid her hope. But she saw 
nothing but the pitiless curiosity of a crowd anxious to enjoy 
a promised spectacle. She had nothing to hope from man. 

Her eyes, filled with an expression of supreme anguish, 
then turned slowly towards heaven. Was it a reproach ad- 
dressed to that God whom she had implored, and who re- 
mained mute like the others? Was it a last prayer to be- 
seech him again to manifest His power ? 

When she looked down, she saw only Kavinus, who, 
smiling horribly, offered her his hand. She rejected it with 
disgust, and began the descent unaided. But at the first 
steps^ her stole got caught around the end of the ladder. 
She turned quickly, with a gesture of alarmed modesty, and 
released it. * 

Then she soon disappeared into the vault. . . 

Ravinus pulled up the ladder. The slab was placed over 
the opening. Then, Ravinus and his aids began to throw 
earth into the mouth of the shaft so as to conceal the slab. 
Soon, every vestige of the opening had disappeared, and 
the ground was levelled at a great distance, so that not 
even the spot could be recognized where the incestuous 
priestess was entombed, separated from the living and the 
dead. 

And all was over. 


*Pliny, Lib. iv., Epist. 11. 


322 


AURELIA; OR, 


CIIAPTER XXI. 

THE DELIVERANCE. 

I F, some tliirty hours after the consummation of this fear- 
ful atonement, a citizen should have ventured, notwith- 
standing the darkness, in this deserted section of Rome, he 
would have noticed, with surprise, four slaves bearing a lit- 
ter, and who silent and motionless like so many shadows, 
■waited patiently under the solitary porticoes of the temple of 

Satbty. ^ , 

Then, if this belated citizen, inclining a little to the right, 
had ascended by the way of the Agger of Servius as far as 
the Collina Gate, he would have discovered by the pale light 
of the stars, an old man kneeling on a slight mound in the 
barren plain and praying with fervor. 

Now, at the very time we speak of, an individual was pre- 
cisely accomplishing this nocturnal excursion ; walking with 
noiseless step, peering carefully into every dark recess and 
corner, and stopping, from time to time, to listen anxiously 
to the slightest noise. These extraordinary precautions were 
justified by the very singular appearance of this night 
prowler, which would have certainly excited the suspicions 
of the capital triumvir if he had suddenly came upon him.' 

The mysterious wayfarer carried a rope ladder rolled 
around his body, a spade in one hand, and an iron crow-bar 
in the other. He was, moreover, provided with a dark-lan- 
tern. The chief of the urban police would have doubtless 
asked our friend Gurges — the reader has already recognized 
him — what use he intended to make of these suspicious in- 
struments, and whether he was not undertaking one of his old 
expeditions and preparing to desecrate the grave and rob the 
dead for the benefit of his friend the tonsor. 

Gurges was making all haste to join Clemens in the Cam- 
pus Sceleratus, but he had to use a great deal of caution to 
.avoid dangerous meetings on the way At last, he reached 
the further end of the Vicus Cyprius, and before ascending 
the Quiriual, he paused in the shadow of the temple of For- 
tune, and peered through the gloom at the porticoes of the 
temple of Safety, close by, to ascertain whether his vespillos 
had carried out his instructions. 


THE JEWS OF GAP ENA GATE. 


323 


“ Very well!’’ he muttered, as he discovered the lectica 
and its motionless bearers. “ All is well. Those vespiilos 
have understood me . . . By Venus Libitina! ... I can 
laugh now at the capital triumvir and his men ...” 

13ut Gurges had scarcely muttered those defiant words, 
when he threw himself down fiat on the pavement of the tem- 
ple of Fortune, exclaiming : 

“ Hateful triumvir I . . . Unfortunate Vestal! ...” 

The regular tramp of a patrol could be heard in the dis- 
tance, coming up the T7ci«s Cypi’ius. If Gurges had had 
the good luck of preceding the cohort, the cohort would now 
have the advantage of pouncing upon Gurges 

Still, things might take a difierent course. The patrol 
might pass straight on without discovering the designator, 
but then they would necessarily come upon the vespiilos and 
their suspicious lectica. Or they might turn to the right, 
but in this case they would surprise the pontiff of the Chris- 
tians in the Campus Sceleratus. 

The dilemna had three horns, and all equally dangerous ! 
Hence the designator’s exclamation and the curse he addressed 
the triumvir. 

There was, however, still a chance of safety 

About a hundred steps from Fortune’s temple, there was 
to the left, a narrow lane which led to Csesar’s Forum and 
finally to the Catularia Gate, after passing near the atrium of 
Freedom. If the patrol followed this lane tliere would bo 
nothing to fear, for it would lead them to distant quarters of 
the city, whence they would not be likely to return in this 
direction. The question was would they take the lane ? 
iiieanwhilo they advanced with their torches whose light 
caused Gurges no little perturbation 

Another cry of alarm was very near escaping his lips when 
he recognized the voice of his personal enemy, the capital tri- 
umvir, ordering his men to ascend the Quirinal, near whose base 
was situated the Agger of Servius, whence it was an easy 
matter to survey the Campus Sceleratus. But to the desig- 
nator’s great astonishment, the patrol stopped and refused to 
proceed further. The triumvir, surprised at this unusual re- 
sistance, repeated his order. 

“ Are you not aware,” remonstrated some voices, “that 
this spot is cursed . . and if wo were to advance we should 


S24 


AURELIA j OR, 


seethe shade of the Grand- Vestal hovering near her grave ! 
. . . And such a sight announces death within the year to 
the beholder !” 

That is a fact,” said the triumvir, not less superstitious 
than his men. “ I had forgotten that execution . . . Let 
us get away from here ...” 

And the officer countermarched his little troop who turned 
into the narrow lane. 

"When the noise of their steps had died away, Gurges 
sprang to his feet. 

“ By Venus Libitina,” he cried, what cowards those fel- 
lows are ! . . . Who ever knew the dead to come back ? . . . 
I have never seen any, and many a night I have passed 
amidst the tombs ! . . . I mean the veritable dead ... for 
as to the Grand-Vestal, I hope and trust she is still alive . . 
and that I, Gurges, will soon take her out of her vault ! '. . 
Never mind, those worthy patrol-men have given me a ter- 
rible scare ! . . . But the pontiff of the Christians will be 
thinking that I have broken my word to him, and I would 
not have him think this for anything in the world ! . . Let 
us make haste then, I shall explain to him what caused my 
delay . . Good luck, my dear triumvir ! . . it is probable 
we shall not meet again this night.” 

Collecting his various instruments, Gurges ascended the 
Quirinal as promptly as he could, embarrassed as he was 
with his load. A few minutes later he was near Clemens and 
apologized to him by telling his adventure with the triumvir. 

“ You see it, my son,” said the priest with a quiet smile. 

‘ ‘ God watches over us ; he proves it by turning off these first 
dangers . . It will, perhaps, not be the last mark of assist- 
ance He will give us. But what are you doing, Gurges?” 

The designator, after striking the soil several times with 
his crowbar, had thrown himself on the ground and was lis- 
tening anxiously. 

“ What are you doing, Gurges?” the pontiff repeated, no 
answer having been made to his first question 

Gurges raised himself on his knees and looked at Clemens 
with an air of anguish. 

“ This is singular !” he remarked. “I have made this 
noise to warn the Grand- Vestal that we are here, . . . and 
I hear nothing, absolutely nothing ! . . . Not a cry, not a 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 325 


movement ! . 
Oh! ” 


. Has she then already succumbed? . . , 


And Gurges laying hold of his spade began to dig with an 
ardor that amounted almost to rage. 

Clemens said nothing. It was well that the weakness of 
man should show itself before the greatness of God. 

Three men had been employed piling up earth into the 
shaft ; then they had trodden upon upon it and made it so 
compact and firm that Gurges soon found himself struggling 
against an almost inseparable obstacle. It had been easy 
work at first, but when he stood up to his waist in this nar- 
row aperture, hemmed in between four thick walls, he saw 
that it would be impossible for him to finish his task unaided. 
Every shoveful of earth that he threw out would crumble in 
again carrying with it the rubbish previously shovelled out, and 
which, falling upon him, made his work still more difficult. 

The poor fellow persisted manfully but his efibrts were un- 
availing, and once, being nearly covered up by the crumbling 
sand, he uttered an exclamation of despair. But another 
voice replied to his cry of anguish, and Gurges looking up 
saw Clemens standing in a halo of light, with his hands ex- 
tended over the chasm ! 

Then, Gurges felt that the ground upon which he stood 
was sinking rapidly, and he rolled suddenly into the Open 
vault. When he rose to his feet, Clemens was standing by 
his side. No other light could be seen but the small funeral 
lamp still burning near the bed. By this flickering flame 
they saw the Grand- Vestal stretched motionless on her couch. 

Gurges laid a trembling hand upon the rigid form, and 
fell, sobbing, at the pontiff’s feet. 

“ O my lord,” he exclaimed, “ she is dead! her body is 
icy cold !” 

Clemens smiled as he looked at this poor man whose heart 
would not yet open to confidence, and said to him kindly : 

“ What my son, after what you have seen, do you still 
doubt?” 

Gurges then saw that the old man held in his hands a vase 
and some bread. 

“ My son,” added the pontiff, “ the work of God is ac- 
complished ! . . The work of man must now commence.” . . 

* * * * * * 


326 


AURELIA; OR, 


When Cornelia descended into the vault, she placed her- 
self on the bed, in the attitude of one who has lost even 
the power of thinking. She did not weep but the fictitious 
strength which had sustained her during the execution, had 
completely vanished. She was in that state of stupor which 
causes a void in the mind and plunges the body into a rigid 
inertness. 

Her eyes followed vacantly the motion of the earth shov- 
elled at the entrance of the vault by Ravinus and his aids, 
and part of which, sliding into the vault, rolled to her feet 
and gradually covered them. This sand which moved as it 
spread into the vault, the noise made by the workmen above, 
all these fearful preparatives were life still, and the Grand- 
Vestal clung to them as to a last hope. 

Then all was hushed, and all motion ceased. 

Cornelia gazed slowly around her, with eyes distended by 
terror . . . She saw the bread, water, and milk^ placed near 
the lamp. She remained thoughtful a long time, contempla- 
ting this food by which her remaining days were measured. 
Then, concluding doubtless, that all hope had vanished and 
it was better not to prolong sufferings which must end in 
death, she took the bowl of milk, brought it to her lips and 
poured the remainder of the contents on the ground. With 
a bitter smile she now took up the piece of bread, felt its 
weight, and breaking it into crumbs cast them about and 
trampled upon them. 

The water she preserved. Was it from some secret hope ? 
The sacrifice was consummated, life was no longer possible. 
Death could come now, and the Grand-Vestal lay on her 
couch, to await its coming. 

We shall not describe the mental tortures of this unfortu- 
nate young woman, the cruel sufferings caused by the want 
of air, or the first pangs of that terrible disease — hunger. 
When Gurges found her rigid and cold as a corpse, she had 
fainted, exhausted by thirty hours of want and terror. 

* * * ;ic igi 

Finding Cornelia inanimate, Clemens raised her head, and 
poured drop by drop between her lips the cordial he had 
brought with him. A slight tremor of the rigid limbs soon 
proved to Gurges that the Grand-Vestal still lived and would 
not be long recovering her senses. 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


327 


Clemens again opened Cornelia’s lips and repeated the dose 
at short intervals until the small amphora he had brought 
was emptied of its contents. Life was returning, but the ex- 
hausted girl was still unconscious. After a little while the good 
priest took a small loaf of bread made from the whitest hour 
kneaded in pure milk, and placing it between the Vestal’s fin- 
gers, lifted her hand near to her face. By an instinctive 
motion, the Grand-Vestal brought the savory food to her 
mouth and ate it greedily. Still, she spoke not. So com- 
pletely exhausted had been the victim, tliat her faculties could 
only be gradually restored. 

Clemens waited, kneeling near the bed. Gurges, overcome 
by emotion and admiration, seemed plunged in a sort of 
dreamy stupor. His face was bathed with tears. 

A deep sigh announced at last that the resurrection was 
complete. Cornelia raised herself on her elbow, and pass- 
ing her hand on her forehead as if she awoke from a dream, 
exclaimed ; 

Where am I?” 

But she fell back with another cry — a cry of terror and 
fearful despair ! By the dim light of the lamp she had re- 
cognized the vault in which she had been left to die ! 

“ You are saved! madam,” said Clemens in a grave and 
calm voice, and he touched her hand. 

“ Who are you?” asked the Grand- Vestal with astonish- 
ment, for she could not see the features of the speaker. 

* * How did you gain access to this tomb ?” 

Madam, have you forgotten the man who promised to 
rescue you even from the bowels of the earth ... if you 
were ever made to descend into this abyss ? . . . I have come 
to fulfil my promise ! . . ” ' 

‘ ‘ The pontiff of the Christians I” exclaimed Cornelia, 
-ah!” 

She sprang from her couch and fell at the feet of her pre- 
server, holding them tightly clasped and bathing them with 
her tears. So great was her gratitude, so overpowering her 
emotion that she could not speak. Nothing was heard in this 
narrow space but the convulsive sobs of the poor w’oman mi- 
raculously restored to life. 

“Madam,” said Clemens, as he endeavored to raise her 
trembling form. “You are saved! But you must now 


m 


AURELIA; OR, 


hasten to leave this dismal abode. A devoted man will take 
you to a place of concealment where your persecutors cannot 
reach you.” 

And turning to Gurges : 

“ My son,” he added, “prepare your ladder! . . Your 
prudent forethought has been wise ! . . You may now finish 
the work of God.” 

The rope-ladder having been made fast to a projecting 
Stone on the crest of the wall, the pontiff placed the other 
end in the Grand-Vestal’s hand. 

“ Come, madam,” he said, trying to release his knees from 
her embrace. “ It is getting late and day-light must not find 
us here ! . . . Hasten, I pray you !” 

Cornelia rose to her feet, but instead of taking the rope she 
let it drop. Going to the further end of the vault she took 
the small pitcher of water she had preserved, and bringing it 
to the priest, she again knelt before him ; 

“ Father,” she murmured faintly and in a beseeching tone, 

Metellus Celer is no more ! . . I heard his last cry I . . . 
All the affections of my heart are dead, and of the Vestal 
there remains only the virgin saved by you ! . . Your God 
is mine ! ... It is by water that one becomes a Christian, 
and I have kept the water given to allay the dying thirst 
of the victim, in that hope ; for as I was about to spill it I 
remembered that you might come ! . . Before you return me 
to the world of the living, make me a Christian, so that I 
shall be henceforth only your daughter!” 

Tears of happiness suffused the eyes of the venerable pon- 
tiff and rolled slowly over his cheeks. 

“ My daughter,” he said, with deep emotion, “take off' 
that veil and bow your head . . . Ordinarily the holy bap- 
tism is given only after a long period of preparation and pro- 
bation . . . But you have already been instructed in our 
holy doctrine . . . and then, who could add anything to the 
solemn teaching of this tomb from which God alone, and not 
I, has delivered you? . . . Recollect yourself, my daughter, 
and pray to Him who, at my voice, will make you his child.” 

Then Clemens laid his hands on the head of the recollected 
virgin, and marked her forehead with the sign of the cross. 
This preliminary ceremony made her a catechumen. Then 
taking the water, which he blessed, he proceeded : 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


329 


Cornelia,” he said, “ I baptize thee in the name of God 
the Father . . ” 

Here he sprinkled her with the holy water. 

I baptize thee in the name of Jesus Christ His Son.” 

And he again poured water on her head. 

“ I baptize thee in the name of the Holy Ghost.” 

And what remained of water was again poured on the pure 
brow of the kneeling virgin. After a last invocation in 
which he united the three persons of the Holy Trinity, ho 
blessed Cornelia, saying : 

“ llise, my daughter, thou art a Christian! . . a Chri.S' 
tian in life ! . . a Christian in eternity ! . . ” 

A few moments later, Cornelia stepped out of the pit, sup- 
ported by the holy pontiff. Gurges followed. As soon as ho 
came out, the dreary chasm was suddenly filled up, and Ra- 
vinus himself, if he had seen fit to visit the spot on the next 
day, would have never suspected that any strange hand had 
disturbed his work. 

My daughter,” said the pontiff, I must go to my breth- 
ren . . But, after God, here is the man who saved you ! . . 
I confide you to his care. Follow him 1 . . ” 

Cornelia took the designator’s hand in hers and pressed it 
affectionately. Gurges came near fainting. 

‘ ‘ Father,” he cried, throwing himself at the pontiff’s feet, 
“ I also want to be a Christian I” 

“ I receive you, my son, and it is not the least joy that 
God gives me I . . But for the present we must part ! . . . 
We shall meet again soon and the holy water will flow also 
on your head.” 

The holy old man taking the staff upon which he usually 
leaned was soon lost in the gloom. 

Gurges had the happiness of supporting Cornelia’s feeble 
steps as far as the temple of Safety, where he found the litter 
and his blindfolded vespillos. Everything passed off in ac- 
cordance with the programme announced. The vespillos 
reached the little isolated house, without accident and de- 
parted according to their master’s previous order, fully con- 
vinced that they had left this worthy with his lady love. 

When Cornelia stepped out of the litter she could not re- 
strain a cry of joy. She was received in the arms of Aurelia 
and Cecilia. This great joy was due to the delicate attention 
28 * 


m 


AURELIA; OR, 


of Gurges who thought that the Grand Vestal would feel 
more safe if, coming out of the tomb, she found herself sur- 
rounded by the beings dearest to her heart. 

A short time after these events happened, the sentence of 
banishment pronounced against Flavia Domitilla was carried 
into effect. Domitian ordered her to repair to the island of 
Pontia which would be thereafter her residence. 

On the night preceding her departure, the crypt in which 
the Christians celebrated their mysteries was brilliantly illu- 
minated for a double and imposing ceremony. The divine 
Aurelia, the betrothed of the Caesar Vespasian, and Gurges, 
the humble designator of funerals, knelt side by side to re- 
ceive the Sacrament of Baptism. 

Afterwards the venerable pontiff consecrated to God three 
virgins who received from his hands the first veil worn by the 
brides of Christ. 

These three women were : Flavia Domitilla, grand-niece 
of the Emperor Domitian ; Euphrosine, a waiting maid of 
that pious matron ; and Theodora. Under this last name was 
concealed Cornelia, the Grand-Vestal, who consecrated the 
remainder of her life to the service of that God who had made a 
miracle to save her from a horrible death. She accompanied 
Flavia Domitilla, and shared voluntarily her exile, her long 
\ sufferings and her death. 

[ 



THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


331 


CHAPTER XXII. 

GURGES TREATS OF THE EMPIRE. 

O N the eighth day before the ides of September, (6th of 
September, A. D., 96,) as the shadows of night com- 
menced to invade the streets of Rome, two men could have 
been seen walking hurriedly in the Suburana Way. They 
came from different directions, one looking modestly on the 
ground and absorbed in thought ; the other casting anxious 
glances on the houses as if he were seeking to recognize some 
particular one. As neither of them looked before him, it 
naturally happened that they ran against each other. 

“ Ah !” cried one of the two men. 

“ Oh !” exclaimed the other simultaneously. 

For in every language, these two little words “ Ah !” and 
“ Oh !” are used to express sudden admiration or astonish- 
ment. 

“ Blockhead!” added the house-seeker, which showed that 
his “ oh 1” was not intended as a mark of admiration. 

‘ ‘ What shall I call you ?” replied gently and almost laugh- 
ingly the other ; ‘ ‘ neither of us paid any attention to what 
was in his way. That is all !” 

“ Hallo ! . . it is Gurges,” exclaimed the former speaker, 
casting a single glance on the designator. ‘ ‘ Ah ! this is a 
lucky meeting ! . . I intended to see you in a few days, to 
speak to you about some important matters, in which you may 
be very useful.” 

Gurges was surprised to hear himself called by name by 
this stranger. Still, upon studying his features more closely, 
it seemed to him that this was not the first time he had met 
the man. He looked at him, trying to remember when and 
where they had met. Light dawned at last, which the desig- 
nator expressed by another “ ah I” 

“ Ah ! You recognize me, do you?” said the stranger. 

“ You are the man,” replied Gurges firmly, “who, two 
years ago, came to my house one night, and brought me a 
certain letter . . ” 

“ That’s it,” said the stranger, “ was it then a bad office? 
And did it not result in your being able to save the Grand- 
Vestal?” 


332 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ Silence !” muttered Gurges. 

“ Very well,” replied the unknown, “ we shall drop this 
subject if you wish . . But I wish to speak to you . . Let 
us go in there . . ” 

And he pointed to a tavern near by through whose door, 
left ajar to attract customers, streamed a ray of light. 

“ Let us go in,” said Gurges who, naturally, was curious 
to know who this mysterious individual might be who was 
mingled with one of the most important circumstances of his 
life. “Let us go in ; I am somewhat in a hurry, but I shall 
make greater diligence in what I have to do, and it will 
amount to the same thing.” 

The stranger, preceding the former designator of pagan 
ceremonies — Gurges had resigned this important office in con- 
sequence of his conversion to the Christian faith — entered the 
tavern and asked for a private room. He also ordered some 
food and wine, which he offered to Gurges to share with him. 
But the latter declined, with thanks. 

“ My dear Gurges,” the stranger began, “ in order to 
give you confidence, shall I tell you where you come from and 
where you are going ? For, although I was slightly aston- 
ished to meet you on my way, I soon recollected that you 
must have been in this neighborhood, at the time we met.” 

“ Speak,” said Gurges, still retaining a ceremonious tone, 
although his companion treated him familiarly. “ Speak, I 
listen to you.” 

“ Well, my dear Gurges, you have been washing the body 
of that Nicomedus who was beaten to death yesterday, near 
Minerva’s temple because he refused to sacrifice to the gods. 
And you are now going to the Capena-Gate, to tell the Chris- 
tians they may come for the body of him they will call a 
martyr, to give him burial . *. . Shall I add, dear Gurges,” 
continued the unknown, “ that you will go a little out of your 
way, to call at the house of the divine Aurelia, who expects 
you, and who will watch near the dead body until her hreth- 
ren ” — there was irony and contempt in his voice as he spoke 
these words — “will present themselves this very night to 
carry it to the crypt where you have your tombs ! . . . And 
now, my dear Gurges, tell me, am I well informed.” 

It was at the time of the second persecution, and any Chris- 
tian, however strong his faith, might well shudder on hear- 


HIE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


333 


ing such precise revelations concerning his secret acts. 
Gurges was astonished, hut showed no fear. 

“It is true,” he said, “ I have been doing what the holy 
priest Nicomedus himself used to do — taking away the body 
of a martyr from the hands of his murderers . . I expect to 
be killed also, beaten like him with clubs or in some other 
manner. If you mean to say that I have been discovered and 
my life is threatened like so many others, you do not terrify 
me, but fill me with joy !” 

“ Are you mad, my dear Gurges,” the unknown asked 
compassionately, “ to stake your life in this way for vain chi- 
meras which are certainly not worth the trouble ? Is it not 
enough that you have sacrificed your office and your fortune 
for this superstition ? . . After all it is your own business, 
not mine . . But do not think that I am one of those vile in- 
formers who betray the Christians to their enemies . . . By 
all the gods ! that trade does not suit the man who stands be- 
fore you ! Do you hear, Gurges?” 

“ I am far from suspecting you,” the ex-designator has- 
tened to remark. “I . . ” 

“ Very well ! . . very well! . . ” said the stranger, in- 
terrupting him. “ But let us return to the subject, time is 
precious . . We were saying, then, that thanks to the letter 
I brought you, you saved the Grand- Vestal.” 

“ Silence !” repeated Gurges. “You must be aware of 
the misfortunes ...” 

“Oh!” cried his companion, again interrupting him, 

‘ ‘ you allude to the search made and the prosecutions ordered 
to discover an accomplice . . . It’s an old story, my dear 
Gurges, and Domitian thinks no more about it . . Besides, 
it is three days since the Grand- Vestal ceased to exist ! . 

“ How is this ?” cried Gurges, springing to his feet from 
astonishment. “ How can you know . . ?” 

“ Yesterday,” replied the mysterious stranger, “ a mes- 
senger brought the positive news that Flavia Domitilla, Eu- 
phrosine, and Theodora have found their death in Terracina.” 

“ Oh !” exclaimed Gurges sorrowfully. “ What ! Flavia 
Domitilla also ! . . But you said at Terracina ? The island 
of Pontia was the place of banishment of those three Chris- 
tians . . You have been deceived!” 

“ My dear Gurges,” replied the other, “have you never 


834 


AURELIA i OR, 


heard that Domitian, when he wishes to destroy people, and 
is withheld from doing so openly on account of their name 
or influence, or from some other motive, draws them to some 
place where everything has been prepared for their ‘ acci- 
dental death ? This is what has happened. Flavia Domi- 
tilla and her companions were suddenly transferred to Terra- 
cina upon the pretext of softening the rigor of their exile. 
But on the very night after their arrival, the house in which 
they had found shelter was destroyed by fire, and good care 
was taken that they should not escape,” 

Another sorrow for the divine Aurelia and her noble 
relatives ! Another triumph for the religion of Christ !” ex- 
claimed G urges, with that accent peculiar to times of perse- 
cution, in which bitterness and sorrow were blended with 
faith and enthusiasm. “Yes, for the religion of Christ! 
for those illustrious virgins have suffered martyrdom I” 

“It was martyrdom, or at least what you call by that 
name,” replied the stranger. “It is said, in fact, that 
Flavia Domitilla and her companions showed publicly their 
contempt for the gods and refused to offer them incense. So 
did Nereus and Achilleus, Flavia Domitilla’s eunuchs, who 
were beheaded in Terracina on the very day their mistress died . ” 

“ Glory be to God 1” said Gurges, making the sign of the 
cross. ‘ ‘ Glory be to His martyrs. But,” he resumed, ‘ ‘ how 
could you learn these particulars which are not yet known in 
Home ? . . How could you see this courier who must have 
been secretly sent to the Emperor ?” 

“ This, my dear Gurges, is what I cannot tell and you will 
not know. Let it suffice that you may be sure I do not de- 
ceive you in this circumstance any more than I deceived you 
in the Grand-Yestal’s case. But,” added this mysterious 
man, “ we have now reached the important point of this con- 
versation. Let us recapitulate : Domitian has already put to 
death on account of Christianity, Flavius Clemens and Fhi- 
via Domitilla, besides many who were not his kindred. 
What members of the imperial family remain that have been 
spared by his cruelty ?” 

And as Gurges made no reply : 

“There remain,” proceeded the stranger, “the divine 
Aurelia, the two young Cmsars, Vespasian and Domitian, and 
finally Flavia Domitilla, the widow of Flavius Clemens, ban- 


TEE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


335 


ished, after the latter’s death, to the island of Pandataria. 
Now, all these are Christians and may be threatened at any 
time.” 

“ Aurelia,” remarked Gurges, “ has already appeared be- 
fore the city prefect, who charged her to give up Christianity 
. . From that time she has practiced it openly, in the face 
of the Roman people, by taking care of the poor, assisting 
the confessors of the faith, and helping to bury the martyrs 
. . I believe Domitian will never dare to attempt anything 
against her or the young Cmsars.” 

“I believe the reverse, my dear Gurges, and my mission 
is to give you warning, you who have credit and influence 
with these illustrious persons . . You can aflBrm most posi- 
tively to them, that Domitian has resolved to punish their 
boldness, and no consideration of family ties will stop him 
. . . Yourself, my dear Gurges, are threatened with an early 
prosecution . . and at this very time I would not give four 
sestertii for your life.” 

‘ ‘ So much the better,” remarked Gurges with a calmness 
that won his companion’s admiration. “ I have told you that 
I aspire only to the glory of my brethren who have died for 
the name of Christ . . Aurelia and the young Caesars enter- 
tain the same sentiment. The news you have brought will 
fill three hearts with joy ! . . ” 

“ Then, my dear Gurges, those who despise life so much, 
must also despise the empire ?” 

“ Oh ! the empire,” replied the ex-designator, with supreme 
contempt, “ the empire! this great hope has been given up 
long ago 1” 

“ It is then useless for me to say that this hope might be 
renewed ... I know what I am saying, Gurges,” continued 
in a solemn tone the stranger, who had paused to observe the 
effect produced by his words on the companion whose secret 
thoughts he would have fain read. “ Yes, as humble as I 
may appear . . it may be in my power to return to the divine 
Aurelia and the two young Caesars what they have lost.” 

‘ ‘ Can it be a crime you have come to propose to me I” 
cried Gurges, getting up v/ith great indignation. “For the 
Emperor is still young enough to reign many years, and un- 
less he should be overthrown . . !” 

“Gurges! Gurges!” exclaimed the unknown who felt 


33G 


AURELIA; OR, 


a guilty confusion at the indignant apostrophe of the Chris- 
tian, faithful even to the tyrant "who threatened his life ; “do 
not give more meaning to my words than they should have 
. . Sit down . and listen to what I have to say . . You 
will see that my propositions have nothing in them that is 
not perfectly legitimate.” 

At the same time he pulled Grurges by his tunic with sucl^ 
force, that the ex-designator fell hack upon his seat. 

“ Do you know, Gurges,” resumed the unknown, “that 
for the last eight months . . since the death of the consul 
Fabius Clemens, Rome and Domitian himself are kept in a 
state of continual alarm by the strangest omens which — 
singular to relate ! combine to announce that the Em- 
peror will soon disappear, either by his dying or in some 
other way. Don’t you know that quite recently, a crow — 
the bird of bad omen — lit on the Tarpeian rock and spoke, as 
clearly as any human voice, these words In the Greek lan- 
guage : All things shall go lodl . . What can this mean but 
that the Emperor will be hurled from the throne, by the hand 
of the gods, no doubt? . . For, can it be supposed that with 
Domitian, a man who has committed so many crimes, Rome 
can know better days ? . . Moreover, the tyrant has found 
the interpretation of the omen completed in a dream . . and 
he is himself convinced that his end is near ! Well, Gurges, 
if such should be the will of the gods, why should it not be 
permitted to endeavor to secure the empire for the grand-sons 
of A^espasian, the nephews of Titus ? for those whom the people 
love both for their origin and their own personal worth ? . . . 
Now, I repeat it, I am perhaps the man who can best remove 
obstacles, fix the choice of the pretorians, and conquer the 
suffrages of the people . . but to effect this . . ” 

“The Cmsars should renounce Christianity?” asked 
Gurges. 

“Doubtless! it is a matter of necessity. Rome would 
not consent to be ruled by princes imbued with this super- 
stition.” 

“ Let us stop here,” exclaimed Gurges, rising. “ I would 
never have thought that in my humble condition, the friend- 
ship with which the two Caesars honor me,' could inspire the 
idea that I, the former Vespillo, could be a useful interme- 
diary, and treat in some sort, of the empire. But this very 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE, 


337 


friendship authorizes me to proclaim loudly in the name of 
the two Caesars Vespasian and Domitianus that they have 
renounced the empire as easily as I, Gurges, renounced the 
worship of Venus Libitina, and abdicated the title of desig- 
nator of funeral ceremonies.” 

‘^But what kind of men are you?” cried the stranger^ 
‘ ‘ that neither death nor the certainty of matchless rank 
and power can elicit from you anything but contempt and 
disdain?” 

“Oh!” said Gurges, “we are men who are sustained 
and animated by the hope of an eternal bliss to be reached 
through death. . . This is why we look with pity on life 
and all its joys, even to the highest !” 

“ But tell me, my dear Gurges, how did you conceive 
this hope of which you speak? . . . What made you 
become a Christian, you the wealthy designator . . you the 
supreme chief of Venus Libitina’s agents?” 

“It was a miracle,” replied Gurges, “a miracle which 
passed my understanding. . . You said just now that it 
was I saved the Grand-Vestal! No ! it was the God of the 
Christians !” 

‘ ‘ A miracle, Gurges ! . . What, you are a Christian 
because you have seen what you call a miracle ? . . But 
there is a man in Borne who has been performing miracles 
long since !” 

“ You mean Apollonius of Thyana, do you not?” 

“ The same ! . . In Nero’s time did he not recall to life 
a young girl they were carrying to the grave ? And quite 
recently, in presence of Bomitian who was questioning him, 
did he not disappear suddenly from the crowded room to go 
to Pozzuola, where his diseiple, Damis, affirms that he saw 
him at the very hour ho should have still been in Borne ?” 

“Well,” inquired Gurges, “ if Apollonious of Thyana 
has performed those two miracles, why is it that you do not 
believe in him, although he styles himself a god ? . . Why 
is he mocked and laughed at publicly in Borne ?” 

‘ ‘ What is the nature of those prodigies that you Chris- 
tians make so much noise about, that they should be held in 
greater faith ?” 

“ But,” replied Gurges, “ you have seen one and you may 
judge for yourself,” 

29 


338 


AURELIA; OR, 


“ What do you niean?’^ asked the unknown. 

What!” said Gurges, “ don’t you remember what took 
place last year at the Latin Gate, and that venerable old man 
whom Domitian caused to be cast, alive, in boiling oil? Did 
you not see that apostle of Christ rejoice in the midst of this 
ifearful ordeal, and come out unhurt? Is that miracle not 
great enough which was witnessed by the whole Roman peo- 
ple ? What do you think of it ?” 

Gurges alluded to the glorious triumph of St J ohn the 
Evangelist, which the Catholic Church celebrates on the 6th 
of May. But, aside of the great number of conversions 
brought about by this prodigy, the Emperor and the philoso- 
phers ascribed it to the power of incantations. This explains 
the disdainful reply made by the unknown to Gurges’ 
question : 

“Magic! my friend . . . pure witchcraft!” 

“Well,” said Gurges, “your Apollonius of Thyana who. 
is said to be such a great magician, may try it . . and if he 
succeeds. . . But,” he added, “ this is enough; it is time 
I should return to my brethren . . the more so since I must 
impart to them the grave news you have told me. Anyhow, 
don’t expect that the Caesars Vespasian and Domitianus will 
change their resolution, even if you had really the power to 
realize your promises. . . If God wills it, the empire . . . 
but the empire with Christ’s religion ... or death rather 
than the renunciation of faith !” 

And Gurges, bowing to his companion, hastened away. 
The unknown remained alone, absorbed in his perplexing 
thoughts. 

“What shall we do” he soliloquized, rising from his 
seat; “ if these two young men fail us? . . Who can we 
select ? . . No one wishes to brave the danger ! . . Nerva, 
it is true, is ready . . but he is but an old man ! . . Shall 
I go to that meeting of which I received mysterious notice 
to-day! . . Yes! . .” 

Having made up his mind, he hurried from the tavern. 
The night was dark, and the unknown observed carefully 
the door of each house, as he went on, as if he were looking 
for some signal. He stopped at last, muttering: “It is 
here !” and having examined once more to make sure it was 
the right place, he said a little louder ; 


TUE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


339 


Brutus and Senate !” 

The door was promptly and noiselessly opened. 

* ‘ I am expected, am I not said the stranger as he 
glided in. 

“ Yes, my lord,” replied a voice. And the door closed. 

The new comer crossed rapidly an atrium still darker than 
the street, and having opened another door at the furthest 
end of this habitation, found himself suddenly in a dimly 
lighted room, where a few men were assembled, who 
exclaimed : 

‘ ‘ Ah 1 here is Parthenius at last I” 

“ Parthenius, the news are serious . . we must decide 
how to act. . . Here I* see these tablets I have taken last 
night from under Domitian’s pillow.” 

The speaker was a deformed and hideous creature who 
had sprang forward to welcome Parthenius. In other words, 
it was Hirsutus, the Emperor’s dwarf and most implacable 
enemy. 

‘ ‘ My lords,” said Parthenius, ‘ ‘ I also have interesting 
news to communicate. . . . You are right ; these tablets 
must put an end to all hesitancy. Let us deliberate.” 



840 


AURELIA; OR, 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE CLOUDS GATHERING. 

A urelia, since her eyes had opened to divine truth, had 
been an example of what faith and grace can do when 
they take possession of a heart. She was not long under- 
standing that she must renounce the empire, as her new belief 
would prove an insuperable barrier ; and she accepted with 
joy this sacrifice which formerly would have seemed to her 
an impossibility. 

Nevertheless, she had preserved her love for Vespasian, 
but she had sanctified this legitimate affection by showing 
herself ready to sacrifice it to God, it* His glory required this 
last proof of devotion. Now, she felt that for her faith, she 
could not only silence the voice of her heart, but have even 
the strength of encouraging her cousin in his resolutions. 
She understood now that religion must be placed above all 
things human, even to the most precious and the dearesr, and 
fhe frequently conversed on this subject with Cecilia, whom 
jhe called sister, and who, conforming to her desires and 
Orders^ gave her the same sweet name. 

After Flavia Domitilla’s departure, she had succeeded that 
sainted matron in the accomplishment of all the pious works 
of which the latter had given the first example in Rome. 
Like her, Aurelia could now be seen daily assisting the sick, 
sheltering abandoned infirm slaves, and relieving all the mis- 
eries and sorrows of poverty. She wanted to give up her 
immense wealth and to place it in the hands of the pontiff 
Clemens ; but the latter had refused and had compelled her to 
remain its dispenser, enjoining her eVen to devote a sufficient 
portion of her income to maintain her high rank in a becom- 
ing manner. 

Those distinctions, so highly prized of old, and now despised 
by the divine Aurelia, were a great burden to her, and she 
endeavored to compensate by voluntary privations and hum- 
ble deeds in her private life, the enjoyment and secret vanity 
of the pompous exigencies to which she must submit in public. 
Thus, she taught, herself, her numerous slaves, many of 
whom she had set free, but who had remained with her ; she 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


341 


nursed them in their sickness and provided "with solicitude 
for all their wants. They were frequently the auxiliaries of 
her charitable intentions, in which she was aided, however, 
principally by Cecilia and Gurges. 

Such was the life of the divine Aurelia, when the persecu- 
tion broke out suddenly, which Domitian determined to wage 
against the Jews so long designated to his vengeance. 

The first persecution was due to the necessity in which 
Nero found himself of justifying the burning of Home by 
accusing the Christians of that fearful catastrophe. But it 
is difficult to set forth with anything like precision, the real 
causes of the second persecution. Domitian, after his many 
crimes, covered with the blood of the most illustrious citi- 
zens, could not but feel that he had become odious to the 
people, and that the desire for his overthrow was not confined 
to the ill-fated Lucius Antonius and his unknown confeder- 
ates The slaughter of all whom he believed implicated had 
not thrown any light upon the conspiracy. He lived in con- 
tinual dread and anxiety, and took the most extraordinary 
precautions to guard against the fate predicted by the Chal- 
dean philosophers,* and of the approach of which he had a 
presentiment. 

Fearful omens were continually adding to his anxiety. He 
felt that he was surrounded by invisible and active enemjes, 
even in the imperial household He relented in his actg of 
cruelty, hoping to pacify the public mind, but it had no 
effect, and the warnings of his approaching fall continued 
more frequent and explicit. He then gave full sway to his 
cruel instincts, and woe to whoever excited his suspicions ! 
The narrative of his cruel deeds would appall the reader, and 
would be foreign to the plot of our story. 

At last, shut up in his palace, like a wild beast in its lair, 
and roaring with powerless fury, he remembered the prophecy 
that the Jews would become masters of all things, and he 
persuaded himself that the danger lay with his own kindred. 
He resolved, therefore, notwithstanding his former fear of 
the powerful God of the Christians, to proceed against his 
relations, in whom he centered all his apprehensions ; for, if 
the Sibylline books promised the empire of the world to the 


Suetonius, in Domit, Cap. XIV. 

29 * 


342 


AURELIA; OR, 


people coming from Judea, that is, to the disciples of Christ, 
were not Flavius Clemens and his sons — Christians all — the 
secret choice of the people of Rome ? 

Such was, in our opinion, the only cause of the second 
persecution. Its character was more political than religious. 
With the exception of the martyrdom of St. John and a few 
Other Christians, such as the holy priest, Nicomedus, whom 
the excited populace heat to death with clubs, it is not shown 
that this persecution reached any large number of the faith- 
ful. It fell almost exclusively upon the members of the 
Imperial family, and after the murder of his relations, Domi- 
tian countermanded the orders he had issued against the 
Christians. 

Flavius Clemens was put to death, and his wife, Flavia 
Domitilla, was banished, but Domitian attempted nothing 
against the young Caesars and Aurelia, notwithstanding their 
refusal to sacrifice to the gods when urged to do so by the city- 
prefect. This leniency of the tyrant cannot well be explained ; 
It may have been owing to the strange omens which followed 
the death of Flavius Clemens, and which are related by Sue- 
tonius. It seemed, according to this historian, that not 
only mankind but the Gods had united to avenge the death 
of the martyr, and make Domitian tremble for his own fate. 

But a tyrant like Domitian could not resign himself to' 
lose his power and his life, without trying to exercise his 
vengeance to the very last hour. After the persecution of 
the Christians, the Emperor’s suspicions turned, with more 
justice this time, upon other parties, many of whom in fact 
were conspiring against him. Dion Cassius relates that the 
boy of whom he had made his plaything, and who was no 
other than Hirsutus, found under his pillow tablets contain- 
ing the names of the principal officers of his household, whom 
he intended to have put to death 

The name of the Empress Domitia Longina headed the list 
of victims. 

It became urgent to act, and for this purpose the nocturnal 
meeting was held, in which we have left Parthenius. But if 
all agreed upon the necessity of action, the leaders of the 
conspiracy had not yet been able to agree upon the choice of 
the successor who should be proclaimed in Domitian’s place. 
Parthenius belonged to the party which favored the election of 


V 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


343 


the two young Caesars provided they renounced Christianity, 
and he had accepted the mission of sounding them. Hence 
his joy upon meeting Gurges, of whose intimacy with the 
young Caesars he was aware. 

Great was the disappointment of his party when Parthenius 
communicated the result of his interview with Gurges. 
A long and stormy discussion ensued, hut the conspi- 
rators, knowing all the danger of further delay, finally 
agreed upon the choice of the Consular Nerva, a man who 
commanded general respect and confidence hy his modera- 
tion and justice, and many other eminent virtues, but against 
whom militated an important objection. He was over sev- 
enty years of age, and could not live long — would they run 
the risk of falling after his death, under the yoke of a new 
tyrant ? 

This matter having been decided upon, one of the conspir- 
ator was instructed to proceed immediately to Tarenta, in 
order to advise Nerva to return secretly to Rome There 
remained now but to select the day upon which Domitian 
should be attacked, and of a common accord, they appointed 
the fourteenth day before the Kalends of October. This 
was precisely the day fixed by Domitian’s presentiments. 

Parthenius, who was the Emperor’s chamberlain, would 
introduce Stephanus under the pretext of presenting a peti- 
tion to Domitian ; the others were to rush in if Stephanus 
failed to kill the tyrant outright, and help to finish him. 
Hirsutus would see that the Emperor would have no weapons 
within his reach. 

These preliminaries settled, the conspirators separated 
after swearing to each other fidelity to the cause they had 
embraced. 


344 


AURELIA; OR, 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE DEATH OF A TYRANT. EPILOGUE. 

T he day appointed was not distant, and the conspirators 
prepared their plans with the greatest prudence, taking 
care to avoid everything that might have raised the least 
suspicion. 

Stephanus showed himself in public every day with his 
left arm in a sling as though it had met with an accident. 
But the cloth in which his left hand was wrapped concealed 
the dagger with which he was to strike the tyrant. 

At last, the fatal day arrived. On the previous day, the 
Emperor’s secret fears had increased. At supper, having 
ordered that a certain dish should be kept for the next day, 
he added : ‘ ‘ Provided I may eat it /” Then he remarked that 
on the morrow the moon would become bloody in crossing 
Aquarius, and an event would occur of which the whole 
world would speak. During the night he sprang from his 
bed with cries of terror. Near morning, he sent for a Grer- 
man aruspice, and the latter having predicted that some great 
change was preparing, he had him put to death. 

Sometime after this, he tried to pull out a small wart he 
had on his forehead. At the sight of the blood which flowed 
from this slight wound, he cried : 

‘ ‘ May it please the gods that this be enough !” 

He then asked what time it was, and was told the sixth hour. 
He became joyful and prepared to give the usual attention to 
his toilet, for in his presentiments the flfth hour, (ten o’clock 
A M.,) was the time which fate seemed to have fixed for 
the consummation of attempts upon his person. But at this 
moment Parthenius came in to tell him that a man who had im- 
portant news to communicate, wished to see him without delay. 

Domitian sent everybody away, and returning to his bed- 
room ordered the man to be brought in. It was Stephanus, 
with his arm in a sling. He was alone, but he had left his 
confederates at the door. As he entered the room he bowed 
profoundly to Domitian, who gazed at him with mingled sus- 
picion and curiosity. 

The conspirator saw that there was no time to lose. He 


THE JEWS OF GAP ENA GATE. 


346 


approached, and addressing the Emperor in a tone of humil- 
ity, he stated that he had discovered a plot against his life, 
and had hastened to denounce the plotters. Saying this, he 
handed Domitian a long list which the latter seized hastily, 
and commenced to read. 

The time had come. Stephanus drew himself up, and 
with a single glance, surveyed rapidly the whole apartment, 
lie saw no one except Hirsutus, who was rolling on the 
floor, playing with a little dog, and exchanged a look of 
intelligence with him. Then, his eyes fixed on Domitian with 
evident anxiety. Did remorse stay his hand, or was he study- 
ing where to strike ? 

The Emperor had thrown himself upon a seat, and leaning 
forward with his body almost doubled up, did not raise his 
eyes from the pages of the voluminous document which his 
trembling hand turned convulsively. This position of his 
body was unfavorable for an attack, as it was difficult to reach 
a vital part, and an ill-directed blow would result in the 
failure of the attempt, and the probable death of the assassin, 
for the pretorians in one of the adjoining rooms would 
rush in at the first cry of the Emperor. 

Stephanus gave one glance to Hirsutus, and the dwarf 
understood the case, and acted promptly to lessen the danger. 
Rolling about the room with his dog, he closed noiselessly 
the doors that led to the guard room. He then returned to 
his place behind the Emperor, and made a sign to Stephanus. 
The latter’s right hand clutched the dagger held in his left, 
but he still waited for some movement of Domitian that would 
give the opportunity to strike. 

At last the Emperor got to the end of the long list of names; 
and he was in the act of rising from his seat, when Stephanus 
springing forward, dealt him a fearful blow with his dagger. 
The weapon was buried to the hilt in the tyrant’s abdomen, 
but the wound was not mortal, and with a cry of rage and 
pain, he sprang back and seized his sword which lay near 
the bed. But as he pulled it from the scabbard, the hilt 
only remained^in his hand ; the blade had been broken off. 
Hirsutus laughed aloud, and making a hideous face at his 
master, pointed to the closed doors. 

The Emperor understood that he had been betrayed, and 
that he was lost! Then commenced a fearful struggle 


846 


AURELIA; OR, 


between the wounded man and his assassin. They seized 
each other, and rolled upon the floor, Stephanus striking 
repeated blows ; and Domitian trying to wrest the dagger 
from his adversary’s hand and to gouge his eyes, whilst he 
called in vain to his pretorians. 

Hirsutus hastened to open the door behind which the other 
conspirators waited, and the struggle was soon ended. Seven 
daggers buried in Domitian’s breast, made him a corpse ! 

Meanwhile, the pretorians were bursting the other door. 
The assassins fled, with the exception of Stephanus, who, 
exhausted by the fearful struggle he had sustained, lay pant- 
ing by the side of his victim. The pretorians immediately 
put him to death. They then hastened to scour Rome in 
search of a leader who could help them to avenge the master 
they regretted. 

But they could find nothing but indifference for the fate 
of a tyrant, and they had to submit to Nerva’s being pro- 
claimed emperor. 

The Senate assembled immediately and placed Nerva in 
possession of the throne. A decree was promulgated order- 
ing the destruction of all statues and portraits of Domitian 
in the temples, before which the people had hitherto bent 
the knee as before the images of a god. His name was 
erased from the public monuments and triumphal inscriptions. 
It seemed as though they wished to annihilate even the 
memory of the tyrant. 

The news of the murder spread into the adjacent country, 
and soon an aged woman was seen to enter Rome, and hasten 
to the Palatine-House. It was Phyllis, Domitian’s old nurse, 
who loved with a mother’s tenderness him she had held to 
her breast. There was no one near the gory remains except 
Hirsutus, who, seated upon the dead man’s chest, was enjoy- 
ing his long expected revenge. He fled at the sight of the 
weeping old nurse. 

Phyllis wrapped the body in a shroud, and aided by some 
hired vespillos, .had it carried to her little house on the Latin 
Way — the gift of Domitian. There, during the night, she 
burned it on a funeral pile. Later, when time had silenced 
the hatred with which the memory of the tyrant was sur- 
rounded, the faithful woman carried secretly his ashes to 
the temple erected to the Flavian race. 


THE JEWS OF CATENA GATE. 


347 


Sucli was the end of Domitian, one of the most odious mon- 
sters that ever dishonored mankind. 


We must now say what became of the other characters 
which have appeared in this narrative. Aurelia and the 
two young Caesars lived in peaceful obscurity, their virtues 
and the veneration in which the names of Vespasian and 
Titus were held in Rome, protected them during the fearful 
persecution of the Christians which happened under the 
Emperor Trajan. Their friendship for Olinthus, Cecilia and 
Gurges also preserved these young people from harm. Such 
at least is the natural inference we must draw from the silence 
of history concerning them. 

Clemens, the holy pontiff, one of the most illustrious suc- 
cessors of the apostle, was put to death during Trajan’s per- 
secution, in the year of our Lord, 100. 

Marcus Regulus did not succeed in the realization of his 
ambitious dreams. He lost favor under Nerva and his suc- 
cessor Trajan, but contented himself with enjoying in peace 
and retirement his immense fortune. He died of a natural 
death, at a very advanced age. 

The reader, no doubt, will wish to know something of Eutra- 
peles’ fate. 

He was not made a senator. 

Did the tonsor die of disappointment at losing the hope 
which had been the dream of his life? 

History remains silent on this point. 

It often throws a shadow upon the end of those it had sur- 
rounded with light ; and avenges the brightness of their life 
by the obscurity of their grave. 



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ITOTES. 


fpAQE 8.) JJrhs. — Ancient Rome was divided into two distinct 
parts ; the city [urhs) comprised within the military enclosure con- 
structed by Servius Tullius, and Rome which filled the large space 
extending thence to the Pomoerium {post mcerium or murum,) the 
outer limit beyond the second walls with which Rome was encircled. 

The new quarters successively added to the original city were 
designated by the generic name of suhurhana (suburbs.) This 
distinction was made independently of the division of Rome into 
fourteen regions which were subdivided into nearly two hundred 
quarters. 

The city was holy. But this epithet was not used in the same 
sense we now attach to it when applying it to Rome, considered as 
the capital of Christendom. The adjective holy — sancta (from 
sancire — meant simply that the city was protected by the sanctions 
of the law against the violations and outrages of men. The sanc- 
tion or penalty of the law against the violators of the walls of the 
city was capital punishment. It was established by Romulus, who 
put to death his brother Remus because the latter had violated his 
orders and crossed the walls of the infant city. This law existed 
until the last period of the Roman empire. Justinian in his Insti- 
tutes (Lib. 2, Tit. 1, § 10) alludes to it as still in vigor in his time. 

{Ibid.) Orcecostasis. — Palaces were unknown in Rome. Dwell- 
ings, however spacious and splendid, were simply styled houses 
(Domus.) But the residences of the Emperors and of the wealthiest 
citizens being situate in the Palatine region, which was the tenth 
region of Rome, the word palace was gradually derived from the 
name of that locality, as expressing the impression left upon the 
mind by the sumptuousness of the buildings erected in the Palatine. 

Page 10. Palcestrion chained in his lodge.— Such was the cus- 
tom in Rome concerning the slaves to whom was committed the 
care of the house-gate They were secured by heavy chains to the 
walls of their lodge lest they should escape. They became as an 
appurtenance of the house, and were sold together with it, unless it 
was otherwise expressly stipulated. Those wretched beings had 
no other companion than a large dog, whose friendship they con- 
ciliated by occasionally feeding the animal with cooked frogs. 

30 (349) 


850 


AURELIA; OR, 


(Page 13.) The emperor Great Pontiff. Previous to the reign 
of Augustus, the dignity of Great Pontiff was always conferred 
upon illustrious citizens; but it was not a prerogative attached 
to any charge or office. Since Augustus, who first assumed this 
dignity, it became the special attribute of the emperors. Singular 
to relate 1 notwithstanding their conversion to Christianity, Con- 
stantine and his successors continued to act as Great Pontiffs. 
Gratian, according to Zozimus, or Theodose, according to other 
writers, was the first who, understanding how incompatible it was 
with that of a Christian emperor, abdicated this title. 

(Page 16.) The latidave. — This garment was a tunic made of 
the finest white woolen cloth, with a very wide purple band [latus 
davus) stitched in the centre. It differed from the angusiiclave 
{angustus clavus,) the garment worn by simple knights, in the 
width of the purple band, which was made much narrower in the 
latter. The hga, that primitive garment of the Eomans, and 
whence they derived their name of gens togata, had almost disap- 
peared under the emperors. It was worn only by poor citizens, by 
clients, and by the lawyers, whose official costume it was when 
they pleaded before the courts. 

[Ibid.) Ward and guardian. — The divine Aurelia was of age, 
twelve years being the term fixed by the Eoman law. But women, 
on account of the frailty of their sex and their legal and permanent 
incapacity, were provided for life with a special guardian who was 
styled cessitius tutor, because he could transfer his functions to 
another. 

(Page 19,) Torturing slaves. — For the cruel treatment of their 
slaves by the Eoman matrons, see Properce, Ovid, Amor I, 14, V. 
18, de Art. Amat. Ill, V. 240; Juvenal, and particularly 

his sixth satyre. We will quote here those lines to show how 
easily the life of a slave was disposed of. They contain a dialogue 
between a woman who asks the death of a slave and her husband ; 

Pone crucem servo Meruit quo crimine servus, 

Supplieium? Quis testis adest? Quis detulit? Audi, 

Nulla unquam de morte hominis cunctatis longa est. 

— O demens ! ita servus homo est? nil fecerit, esto. 

Hoc volo, sic jubeo, sit pro ratione voluntas ! I ! 

(Jun. Sat vi, Ver 218 et Seq.) 

(Page 22.) The porticoes. — The monumental part of the campus 
martius was principally remarkable for the porticoes which had 
been erected there at different periods. They were disposed in 
circular order, at short intervals, so that visitors could pass from 
one to another in going round this whole quarter. There were 
eight porticoes in this region, independently of the Septa Julia and 
the Sepia Agrippiana, vast enclosures which could have been con- 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


351 


sidered as the most immense of porticoes had they been constructed 
for the purpose of public walks. But they had another destination. 

The eight galleries we have alluded to were known by the fol- 
lowing names : the portico of Octavia and that of Phillip, the por- 
tico of Minucius, the portico of Octavius, also called the Corinthian 
portico, the portico of Pompey and the Hecatonstylon, so named on 
account of its hundred columns; the portico of Good Event, and 
finally that of Neptune, or of the Argonauts. 

(Page 23.) The myrrhine vases. — According to the most com- 
mon opinion— although it is contradicted by Winckelraan — the 
myrrhine or murrhine vases were simply China porcelain. Pliny 
relates that it was Pompey who, after his victories over Tigrane and 
Mithridates, brought the first of these vases to Eome, It was 
believed that they were manufactured by the Parthians, as shown 
by this line from Properce, where allusion is also made to a process 
of baking similar to that of china ware : 

“Murrenque in Parthis pocula cocta foeis.” 

Albeit, they soon acquired a price even more exorbitant than that 
of Corinthian brass, which was held as more precious than gold. 

Apollonius of Thyana had visited every known country in the 
world, and it seems certain that he had penetrated as far as China. 
It is related in history that^ having come to Rome to justify him- 
self before Domitian of his intrigues with Nerva, he presented him 
with many valuable curiosities which he had brought back from 
liis long travels. When met by the divine Aurelia, in Pompey’s 
portico, he was seeking protection against Domitian’s anger. 

(Page 27.) Petronilla. — We are aware that many authors have 
denied the existence of this daughter of St. Peter, although it is 
certain that this apostle was married at the time he was selected. 
But the most ancient and trustworthy writers assert that Petronilla, 
the daughter of St. Peter, died a virgin, in Rome, at a very old age. 

(Page 29.) PauVs confinement. — Generally, the accused, in 
Rome, were not cast in prison ; they were simply in custodiam — 
that is, subjected to certain measures of surveillance. They were 
not inqDrisoned even after condemnation, except when sentenced to 
death. They were then confined in the Tullianum, a subterranean 
prison, so called because it had been constructed by King Tullius ; 
or again, in the upper part of this prison, styled Mamertine, from 
Mamers, the name, in the tongue of the Osques of Ancus-Martius 
who had built it. Capital executions, besides, suffered little delay. 
But neither the committal of a prisoner to await trial, nor the 
penalty of imprisonment was then known in Rome. This assertion 
could be proved by numerous examples ; but this question would 
lead us too/ar. 


352 


AURELIA } OR, 


(Page 30.) The Gapena-OaU. — No mistake can possibly exist 
as to the place where the Jews — that is, the first Christians — were 
compelled to seek shelter after their expulsion from the city. It is 
indicated with the greatest precision in these tines of Juvenal : 

Substitit ad veteres arcus, madidam qua Capenam : 

Heie, ubi nocturnse Numa constituebat amicse. 

Nunc sacri fontis neraus, et delubra locantur 
Judseis; quorum eophinus, fenum que supellex. 

Omnis enim populo mercedem pendere jussa est 
Arbor, et ejectis mendicat silra camsenis. 

(Sat. Ill, V. Ilal7.) 

We see in the Acts of Saint Cecilia, that the spot where the Jews 
resided was near the Appian Way — which in fact commenced at the 
Capena-Gate — and situated close to the third milestone : 

“Vade In tertium milliarium ab urbe, via quse Appia nuncupatur; illic inve- 
nies pauperes a transeuntibus alimoniee petentes auxilium ; de hi* enim mihi 
semper cura fuit. — (Acta S. Csecilise.) 

It was there, beyond all doubt, as shown by the same Acts, that 
the Pontiff of the Christians resided. The continuation of this pas- 
sage reads thus : 

“Hos tu dum videris, dabis eis benedictionem meam, dicens : Csecilia me 
misit ad vos, ut ostendatis mihi sanctum senem Urbanum ; quoniamad ipsum 
habes ejus secreta mandata, quse perferam. . . .” 

And in another place : 

“Si consiliis meis acquiescas, et permittas te purifleari fonte perenni, et 
credas unum Deum esse in ccelis vivum et verum, poteris eum videre, Et 
quis erit qui me purificat, ut ego angelum videam ? Est senior qui novit 
purificare homines, ut mereantur videre Angelum Dei.— (Acta S. Csecill*.”) 

Upon comparing these two texts, that of Juvenal and that of 
the Acts, it becomes manifest : 1st. That the Jews lived in the neigh- 
borhood of the Capena-Gate ; 2d. That the Jews were no others 
than the first Christians, since St. Cecilia sent her husband, Valerian, 
to them, in order that the holy old man Urban, then Pontiff of the 
Christians, should purify him by baptism. It will be observed that 
the Acis, like Juvenal, represent the Christians as poor and beg- 
ging : “ Invenies pauperes a transeuntibus alimoniee peientes aux- 

xliumT 

(P^ciE 31 ) The Apostle St. Paul was a native of Tarsus, in 
Cilicia ; but he was the son of a Jew of the tribe of Benjamin, who 
became a Koman citizen when Augustus granted this proud title to 
all the inhabitants of the city of Tarsus. Paul had been brought 
up in the sect of the Pharisees, and besides, in Seneca’s eyes, he 
must have passed for a Jew. 

(Page 31.; Paul and Seneca. — This chapter is not the sugges- 
tion of fancy. A very old tradition of the Church asserts that 
intimate relations existed between St. Paul and Seneca, and that 
they kept up a correspondence. This tradition was unanimously 


THE mvS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


353 


accepted until the middle of the loth century, when Leoiiello, Mar- 
quis of Ferrara and Modena, commenced to contradict it Since, 
there has been no want of opponents, and among these we may 
name Erasmus, Theodore de Beze, Baronins, Regnaud, Frassen, du 
Parron, Estius, etc. However, if we were to publish the names of 
all those who in anterior times strengthened this tradition with their 
testimony, the list would be still longer and more imposing. 

Grave, indeed, is the authority of such names as those of St* 
Jerome, St. Augustine, St. Linus, of Sophronius, the patriarch, o^ 
Byzarue, and the friend and contemporary of St Jerome. Even i^^ 
we confine ourselves to these illustrious witnesses, their declarations 
leave not the smallest doubt that friendly relations did exist 
between St. Paul and Seneca. This tradition of the first ages of 
the Church is accepted and defended by modern writers, among 
whom we will name the Count de Maistre, Mr. Villemain, Mr. du 
Rozoir, Mr. Troplong, the learned Abbe Greppo, and Mr. Amedee 
Fleury. 

Besides the testimony of St. Jerome, St. Augustine, and others, 
there are four facts which, it seems to us, tend to the positive proof 
of these relations; 1st. The indisputable fact of the Apostle’s 
acquaintance with Gallion, the brother of Seneca. It is scarcely 
possible that the proconsul of Achaia would have left the philoso- 
pher in ignorance of the effect produced in Greece by the new 
doctrine of the Gospel, preached by such a man as S. Paul. 
2il. The Apostle’s arrival and public preaching in Rome in Seneca’s 
time. 3d. The unlikelihood that the philosopher could have 
remained indifferent to events which were making so much noise 
in the capital of the world, and which must have interested him 
particularly. 4th. Finally, and above all, the writings of Seneca 
himself, in which passages are frequently found which are evi- 
dently copied from the epistles of St. Paul, and which abound in 
Christian feelings, and words which, previous to him, had never 
been used in their Biblical and figurative sense by any of the ancient 
philosophers. 

(Page 38.) Simon the Magician . — The rash attempt of Simon 
the Magician has been contested by most of the modern ecclesi- 
tical writers ; yet Justin, Ambrose, Cyrillus of Jerusalem, Augustine, 
Philastre, Isadore de Peluse, and Theodoret assert that the fact of 
his rising in the air was real and physically true. The pagan 
author, Dion Chrysostome, confirms their testimony when he asserts 
(Or. 21) that Nero detained a long time at his court a magician who 
promised to fly in the air. Suetonius, in a curious passage of his 
Life of Nero (chap. 12), says that this event occurred at the public 
games ; but the new Icarus, after a few efforts, fell to the ground, 


S54 


AURELIA; OR, 


near the Emperor^s room : “ . . . Icarus primo statin conattt 

juxta cubiculiim ejus decidit, ipsum qiie cruore respersit.’^ 

(Page 40.) Vdleda. — This prophetess of the Germans lived in 
Vespasian’s time, and was worshipped as a divinity after her death. 
Her people never undertook anything without first consulting her, 
and she took an important part in the insurrection of Civilis. She 
was taken prisoner by Eutilus Gallus, who, it seems, led her in 
triumph to Eome. (Tacitus, Hist. IV, 61 and 65. V. 22 and 24 j 
Germ. 8.) 

(Page 43.) The Sons of David. — Hegesippus, an almost con- 
temporary author, asserts this fact, which we shall see realized 
hereafter. Eusebius has preserved this narrative of Hegesippus in 
Ecclesiastical History. — (Lib. Ill, chap. 12, 19 and 20.) 

(Page 49.) The triumvir capital. — This was the title of the 
chief of the night police in Home. He had. under his orders five 
citizens, styled Quinquevirs, who commanded each a cohort of pub- 
lic slaves. Subsequently, the triumvir capital gave way to the 
prefect of the Vigils, who was assisted by cohorts, tribunes and 
centurions, in preserving order in the city. 

(Page 49.) Burials. — It may seem strange that we speak of 
graves when it was the general custom to burn the bodies of the 
dead on funeral piles. But every citizen had not the means of 
paying for the wood required in such circumstances ; the remains 
of the poor were therefore buried. Moreover, a religious notion, 
traces of which are found in the law of the Twelve Tables, tended 
to present the burial of the body as necessary to the repose of the 
ioul ; and this burial was always simulated by throwing a little 
earth, at three different times, upon the body which w’-as to be 
burned. The law, besides, made the burial desirable for the repose 
it secured to the manes, by declaring sacred the soil in which a 
corpse had been buried. This ground became inalienable and per- 
petually without the compass of prescription. (Institutes, Lib. II, 
Tit. Arst. § 9.) 

(Page 64 ) Jugatinus. — This god presided over marriages, and 
was supposed to inspire young girls with a desire for the married 
state. With this view numberless small statues of this god were 
exposed for sale in the taverns, and few young girls were without a 
little Jugatinus in their cubiculum. When the wedding took place 
the image of Jugatinus was borne in triumph before the bride, as a 
mark of gratitude. 

(Page 63) Flavius Clemens and his family. — All that we have 
stated here is historical, or founded on facts. Flavius Clemens and 
his wife, Flavia Domitilla, were victims of Domitian’s persecution. 


THIS JHWS OF CAPFAA GATE. 


855 


Their names are inscribed in the Martyrology, and Suetonius 
(tJornit. 16) confirms the murder of Flavius Clemens in the same 
passage in which he speaks of their two sons being raised to the 
dignity of Csesars. No further mention of these two young princes 
is to be found in history, and everything tends to show that, aa 
Christians, they shared the misfortunes of their family. 

(t^AGE 64.) Fhe communion of the faithful. — Fleury, in his 
Murs des Chretiens, tells us that whoever was admitted at the 
celebration of the sacred mysteries communicated thereat. The 
faithful even carried away the Eucharist to share it with the sick 
and invalids who had not been able to attend. 

(Page 66.) Saturnalia and Matronalia. — The Saturnalia took 
place about the middle of December, which w'as the last month of 
the year, and the Matronalia in the kalends of March, which in 
ancient times commenced the year. This had a meaning which is 
revealed by this passage of Macrobe (Saturn. XII) ; “ Hoc mense 

(Martis) servis ccenas apponebant maironce, ui domini Saturnalihus ; 
illcE ui principio anni ad pi'ompium ohsequium honore servos invi- 
tarent ; hi quia gratiam perfecti operis, exsolverent." — In this 
month of March the matrons waited at table upon their slaves, as 
the masters did in the Saturnalia. The former, at the commence- 
ment of the year, wished, by the honors shown them, to inspire 
their slaves with the principle of prompt obedience ; whilst the 
latter acquitted themselves towards their slaves of what was duo 
them for their good services during the year.” 

? (Page 71.) Primipilar. — The Roman legion was a corps of six 
thousand men, divided into ten cohorts; the cohort was subdivided 
into three maniples, and the maniple into two centuries, or hun- 
dreds. A cavalry corps was attached to the legion. 

The cohort and its three maniples were commanded by centurions, 
who came after the tribunes. The centurion in command of the 
first maniple was superior to the two others, and was styled the 
Primipilar. The ranking Primipilar in the legion— that is, the 
centurion who filled this office in the first cohort— was admitted into 
the councils of war with the General and the Tribunes. 

(Page 76.) The Pretor. — At first there was only one pretor in 
Rome, charged with the execution of the laws. He was styled 
urban pretor, because his jurisdiction did not extend beyond the 
limits of the city. The number of foreigners or strangers living 
temporarily in the city having increased considerably, it was found 
necessary to appoint another pretor, who was designated as pert- 
grinus or stranger, because he tried only cases arising between 
strangers. Subsequently, as the population and the number of 
suits increased, the number of pretors was augmented. Under 


356 


AURELIA; OR, 


Claudius it was increased from sixteen to eighteen, Titus sup- 
pressed one of the two pretors appointed by Claudius. Nerva, who 
succeeded Domitian, reinstated the eighteenth pretor, but limited 
his jurisdiction to questions between the fisc and the non-residents. 
(Digest Lib. 1, Tit. II, s. 2.) It will be seen by this that each 
pretor had his special jurisdiction. 

There v/ere other magistrates, besides, in Rome, but they took 
cognizance of special questions not appertaining to common or 
criminal law. Thus, there were six ediles for administrative ques 
tions, and the prefects of the annone and vigils, with numerous 
delegates, for- questions of subsistence and the immediate repression 
of offences against the public security. The Tribunes of the people 
and the two Consuls also performed certain judicial functions. 

The pretors, notwithstanding their increased number, could not 
attend to all the suits brought before them They appointed sim- 
ple citizens as special judges or arbiters to investigate the facts 
connected with certain cases, and instructed them to condemn or 
absolve, according to the proof offered ; Siparei (here the allega- 
tion was specified) condemna; si non paret absolve. It was, there- 
fore, still the pretor who decided by proxy. These judgments were 
styled ordinary, because they were very frequent. When the case 
involved merely a legal point and required no investigation of facts, 
the pretor decided in person, in which case the judgment was styled 
extraordinary. 

(Page 75.) Intercisus dies — The days were divided into aus- 
picious, inauspicious, and undecided. On the inauspicious days the 
pretor was not permitted to pronounce the three consecrated words 
[do, dico, addico.) 

lUe nefactus eritper quern tri't verba silintur. 

On the auspicious days justice had its free course : 

Fasius erd, per quern lege licebit agi. 

(Ovid, Fast. 1, V, 47 and 39.) 

The undecided days {intercisi dies) were partly auspicious and 
partly inauspicious. The action of the law was suspended during 
the inauspicious hours. This class of days being very numerous, 
serious difficulties often resulted therefrom during the course of 
legal proceedings. 

(Page 80.) Marcus AttUius Begidus. — Tacitus (Hist. IV, 42) 
calls him “Aquilius instead of “Attilius,” but there is good reason 
to believe this a mistake of the copyist. Regulus was certainly one 
of the family of Marcus Attilius Regulus, the celebrated prisoner of 
the Carthaginians. 

The character of the informer, as hideous as it may appear, is 
not a fanciful creation. Regulus had a son whom he seemed to 


THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 


357 


love dearly, which did not prevent him from swearing to the most 
odious falsehoods upon the head of his child (Pliny IV, 20.) What 
Pliny had foreseen [eod. loco) happened. The gods, to punish his 
many perjuries, took away his son (Pliny IV, 2.) He mourned 
him with great ostentation. Sculptors and painters were called 
upon to multiply the child’s image in numberless statues in wax, 
brass, silver, gold, ivory and marble. Kegulus wrote a life of his 
child, and read it in a numerous assemblage. He sent thousands 
of copies of this work all over Italy, and the best declaimers read 
them to the people in the towns. (Pliny IV, 7.) The child had, 
during his life, many ponies, for the saddle and carriage, dogs of 
all sizes, nightingales, parrots and blackbirds. Kegulus had all 
these animals killed and thrown on his son’s pyre. And this was 
not true sorrow, but a real comedy, adds Pliny the younger. (IV, 2.) 

This singular and wicked individual carried these ostentatious 
habits in every circumstance of life. This was shown in his house 
and gardens. As a lawyer he was not less eccentric. He con- 
sulted the aruspices when he had a case to plead ; he draped 
himself in garments to suit the circumstances, and never failed to 
rub with essences one or the other eye, and to wear a white 
bandage over the right or left eyebrow, according to whether he 
was to speak for the plaintiff or the defendant. He possessed, 
however, one good quality : he allowed his opponents to speak as 
long as they wished. It is true that, in return, he trespassed with- 
out moderation upon the patience of his hearers. (Pliny, VI, 2.) 

The biography of Kegulus has been written by Mr. Grellet- 
Dumazeau, in his remarkable work on the Roman Bar. We have 
taken many of the details above given from this work, but we may 
add that they are found entire in seven of Pliny’s letters, in a pas- 
sage from Tacitus, and in a dozen of Martial’s epigrams. 

(Page 85.) Noxal abandonment.— The Koman law made a dis- 
tinction between the offender, who was styled noxa, and the offense 
itself, which was designated by the word noxia : “ Noxa autem est 
corpus quod nocuit, id est servus ; noxia, ipsum maleficiuin, veluti 
furtum, damnum, rapina, injuria.” (Just. Inst., IV, Tit. 8, §1.) 

When the noxa, that is to say the author, of the offense, the body 
which had injured, belonged as a thing either to a father or a mas- 
ter, the master or father were held responsible for the reparation of 
the prejudice resulting from the offense, or for the payment of the 
pecuniary penalty applied to it. And the father or master could 
escape from this responsibility only by the noxal abandonment of 
the son, the daughter, the slave or the animal which had caused 
the damage. This came from the intimate tie recognized by the 
Koman law between the father and his children, the master and 


858 


AURELIA; OR, 


his slaves, the proprietor and his animals. It is sad and shameful 
to acknowledge this, hut in the eyes of the legislator^ these three 
thiugs: a son or daughter, a slave, and an animal, were one and 
the same thing. A slight distinction was made in the forms of 
proceeding, but the consequences of the legal lien were the same 
in all cases. The son or the slave, always considered as things be- 
longing to their father or master, could become, like the animal, 
the object of a noxal abandonment. (Gains, Inst., IV, 76, 77, 78 
and 79 — Just. Inst., Lib. IV, Titles 8 and 9.) The noxal abandon- 
ment of children was finally abolished only in Justinian’s time. 
(Inst. Lib. IV, Title viii, §7.) 

(Page 137.) The Flavian race.— As, some of our readers might 
think that the characters presented in this narrative are the crea- 
tion of fancy, we give here their well-authenticated genealogy, to 
show that they are historical. It will throw a curious light upon 
the humble origin of that proud Flavian race wdfich gave three 
emperors to Rome, to wit: Vespasian, Titus and Domitian. 

1st. The founder of the Flavian race was a poor undertaker of 
public works (manceps operarum), who passed each year from 
Umbria to the country of the Sabines, to find employment, and 
who finally settled in Reata, where he married. His name and 
that of his wife have remained unknown. (Suet, in Vesp. cap, 1.) 

2d. Titus-Flavius-Petronius, son of the above named. He par- 
ticipated in the battle of Pharsalia, where he commanded a cen- 
tury. After Pompey’s defeat, he withdrew to Reata, where he be- 
came a collector of taxes. (Suet, in Vesp., cap. 1.) He married 
Tertulla. (Suet, ibid., cap. 6 and 24, and in Tit., cap. 11.) 

8d. Flavius Sabinus, son of the above named. He was at one 
time a publican in Asia, and subsequently held an office in Helve- 
tia, where he died. He had married Vespasia Polla. Three chil- 
dren were born of this marriage : a daughter, who did not live to 
be a year old [quoi non perannavit) ; Sabinus, styled Sabinus major 
because he was the eldest, and who became prefect of the town ; 
and Vespasian, who became emperor. (Suet, in Vest., cap. 5 and 
1st.) 

Sabinus major had undoubtedly a son, Flavius Sabinus, who mar- 
ried Julia, the daughter of Titus (Suet, in Domit., cap. 10, 17 and 
22), and was probably also the father of Flavius Clemens, the mar- 
tyr (Suet, in Homit., 15), who married Flavia Domitilla, the niece 
of Domitian. Sabinus had besides a daughter who was the mother 
of Saint Flavia Domitilla, the virgin. 

Of the marriage of Flavius Clemens with the first Flavia Domi- 
tilla, two sons were born, whose names were changed into those of 
Vespasian and Domitian on the occasion of their being raised to 


THE JEWS OF CAPENA GATE. 359 

the dignity of Caasars by the Emperor Domitian. (Suet, in Domit., 
cap 15, and Quintilian, Inst. ovat. Lib. IV, proem.) 

The Emperor Vespasian, brother of Sabinus, married a freed- 
woman named Flavia Domitilla, who had been the slave of Statilius 
Capella, knight. (Suet, in Vesp., 3.) They had three children : 
Titus, Domitian and Domitilla. (Suet, ibid.) 

Titus, emperor, married Arricidia Tertulla, from whom he had 
no children. After her death, he married Marcilla Furnilla, of 
whom he had Julia, who married her cousin, Flavius Sabinus. 
Of this marriage was born Aurelia-Flavia-Domitilla, our heroine. 
(Suet, in Tit. cap. 4; in Domit. 10, 12, 17, 22.) 

Domitian, emperor, married Domitia Longina, the daughter of 
Domitius Corbulo, a general in the Koman army under Claudius 
and Nero. Domitian had taken her away from her first husband, 
.®lius Lamia, whom he put to death. (Suet, in Domit., cap. 1.) 
He had a son who died in his infancy. (Ibid, cap. 2.) 

Finally, Domitilla married to an unknown. But from this mar- 
riage was born Flavia Domitilla, the wife of Flavius Clemens, 
martyr, and who was banished by Domitian. (Suet, in Vesp., cap. 
8 ; Quintilian, Inst. ovat. Lib. IV, proem.) 

Thus, Domitian^'s family, from among the members existing in 
his own life-time, gave three martyrs to the Roman martyrology : 
Flavius Clemens ; his wife, Flavia Domitilla ; and Flavia Domi- 
tilla, the virgin martyr. 

(Page 145.) The word madam . — We have already used on sev- 
eral occasions, in this narrative, the word madam, which seems of 
modern origin. The following note, taken from Mr. de Cham- 
pagny’s work. The Gcesars (Vol. II, page 145), fully justifies the 
use we have made of it : 

“ Our word monsi'eiir (sir) is not without an equivalent in the Latin lan- 
guage, at least in the time of the emperors. It is remarked tkat Augustus 
would not permit himself to be addressed as lord (dominus) even by his 
children. (Suet, in Aug., 53.)— When women are fourteen years old, we call 
them 7nadam. ■ (Epictetus, 40.)— To those we meet, and whose names we do 
not remember, we say: Sir (dominus.) (Seneca, 3.)— Dominus mens Gallio, 
says Seneca, speaking of his brother (Ep. 105). Peto abs se, domina ux^r. 
Jurisc. de legatis. Domina Ditis. (Virgil, .dilneid. VI, 397.) Dominum JEneam 
(IV, 214). Greed uxorem dominam vocant (Servius).— Claudius, forgetting Mes- 
salina’s death, asks if madaw is coming: Cur domina non veniret. (Suet, in 
Claud., 39;.” 

(Page 175.) Britannieus. — Tacitus, Annal. lib. XIII, cap. 
XVI; Britannieus was the son of Claudius and Messalina ; Nero 
was the son of H^nobarbus and Aggripina, daughter of Germani- 
cus. Properly speaking, Nero, therefore, was not the brother of 
Britannieus. But Aggripina afterwards married Claudius, and this 
prince adopted Nero, who subsequently married Octavia, the daugh- 
ter of Claudius and the sister of Germanicus. Nero was conse- 
quently the brother-in-law and the adopted brother of Britannieus. 


860 


AURELIA j OR, 


(Page 176.) 'Uhe death of These facts are related by 

Dion Cassius and by Zonaras. Suetonius merely states that Domi-* 
tian abandoned his brother before he had breathed his last. (In 
Domit., cap. 11.) But Aurelius Victor asserts that Domitian caused 
Titus’ death. 

(Page 183.) The luminous gallery. — Pliny-the-Younger alludes 
to these stone walls between which Domitian believed himself inac- 
cessible, and which, nevertheless, the conspiracy inspired by his 
crimes succeeded in penetrating. 

(Page 205.) St. James and St Jude. — The relationship of these 
two brothers with Jesus Christ is demonstrated by Mr. de Tillemont. 
The interrogatory of the two brothers is taken almost from 

Eusebius (Hist. Lib. 3, cap. 12, 19 and 20.) 

The Jewish historian, Flavius Josephus, died in Rome in the year 
of our Lord, 93. He had enjoyed much favor from Vespasian and 
Titus, who admired his works, and it is likely that Domitian also 
honored him and admitted him to his court. — The interrogatory we 
have related, and which is entirely historical, took place, according 
to certain authors, at the beginning of the persecution waged by 
Domitian against the Christians, that is to say, towards the year 95. 
We believe we are nearer to the truth v»?heii we place it in the year 
92. It is scarcely probable that Domitian, at the time he was perse- 
cuting the Christians, would have sent back to Jerusalem the two 
sons of the apostle after they had publicly confessed their faith in 
the presence of his court. 

(Page 215.) The Mysteries of Isis. — Juvenal, Satyr. V^ 510 to 
541. This passage of Juvenal seems to us the more remarkable 
that it contains that blending of Ohristianity with Judaism fre- 
quently observed in the facts belonging to that period when the 
Jews and Christians were often confounded together. It reveals, 
above all, how powerful, despite the denunciations of the wise men 
of heathen Rome, was the influence of the newly imported doc- 
trines upon society. 

The quotations we are about to make here will demonstrate that 
the priests of Cybele had introduced into the celebration of the 
mysteries of Isis the practice of confession, accompanied with the 
ancient ceremonies of expiation of the Jews. We find in these 
lines of Juvenal relating to confession, the three external circum- 
stances which characterize it, viz : 1st, the indication of the fault 
which will give rise to accusation and expiation ; 2d, the accusation 
accompanied with supplications to the deity to obtain forgiveness ; 
3J, the expiation imposed as a satisfaction for the fault. 

1st. The indication of the fault : 

Ille petit veniam, quotiee non abstinet uxor 
Concubitu, sacria observandisque diebus. 


THE JEW^ OF CAP ENA GATE. 


361 


We are aware that the feast of Ceres, which was celebrated iu 
Rome on the fifth of the Ides of April, was the occasion for the 
Roman matrons of certain purifications. 

Annua venerunt Cerealis tempora sacri. 

Secubat in vacuo sola puella toro. 

(Ovid Amor. lAh. Ill, EUg. 10.) 

These chaste resolutions lasted more or less — sometimes during 
ten entire days. 

Tristia jam redeuut iterum solemnia nobis : 

Cynthia jam noctes est operata decern. 

(Prop. Lih. II, Eleg, S-t.) 

But there is nothing to show that the non-observance of these 
purifications, or failure in carrying out these resolutions, gave the 
woman occasion for any accusation or the least expiation. 

Juvenal is the first and only writer who has made the priest say 
that an infraction of the precept demands a solemn atonement. 

Magnaque debetur violata psena cadurco. 

Is it not significant that at the very time when the first notions 
of Christian virginity and chastity were becoming known through 
the teachings of the Apostles, that which had constituted but a 
purely voluntary ceremony was transformed into a fault requiring 
a penal satisfaction ? 

2d. The accusation of the fault. — But what was the duty of the 
woman who had violated the sanctity of the consecrated days ? 
She had to accuse herself before a priest who invoked the mercy of 
the deity [ille 2 )etit veniam) upon the condition that satisfaction 
should be made and some offerings presented. 

Another remarkable feature is that the priest implored tlie deity 
on behalf of the repentant woman, in presence of a silver serpent 
erected in the temple— evidently in memory of tho hrazen serpent 
erected by Mo.ses in the wilderness for the remission of the faults 
of the peoplq of Israel. 

Et movisse caput visa est argentea serpens 
lllius lacrymis, meditataque murmura proestat 
Ut veniam culpae non abnuat, ansere magno 
iScilicet, et tenui popano corruptus Osiris. 

8d. The expiation of the fault. — This expiation had three forms 
expressed in the following lines of the same passage from Juvenal : 
immersion in the Waters of the Tiber, in imitation, doubtless, of the 
purification in the Jordan ; the painful ceremony of crawling on 
one^s bare knees in the Campus-Martins ; and finally, in very se- 
rious cases, the voyage to the Island of Meroe, in Egypt, to seek 
the water wdiich should be poured into the temple of Isis. 

Iliberuum fracta glacia descendet in amnem, 

Ter matutino Tiberi mergetus, et ipsis 
Vorticibus timidura caput abluet: mde superb! 

Totnm regis agruru, nuda ae tremebunda oruenti* 

tl 


B62 


AURELIA; OR, 


Erebet genibus: Si 3andida jusserit lo, 

Ibit ad 2Sgypti finem, calidaque petitas 
A Meroe portabit aquas, ut spargat in a?dem 
. Isidis, antique quro proxima surgit ovili. 

And finally, to complete the analogy, the matron shall do all 
this, says Juvenal, ironically, because she believes that it is the 
goddess herself who orders it by the organ of the priests. 

Credit enim ipsius dominse se voce inoneri. 

(Page 216.) The Gallii. — Faithful to the resolve we have made 
of presenting no dangerous pictures to our readers, we shall not 
say why the priests of Cybelc or Isis were styled gallii. We refer 
the curious to the note of Servius on the 116th line of the IXth 
book of the Eneid ; to Ovid, Fast. lib. IV, lines 181 to 383 for par- 
ticulars, confirmed besides by other passages from Juvenal, Mac- 
robe, Lucan, Pliny, Martial, etc. From the word gallare (to go to 
the gallii) the French have derived the words galant and gedanie. 

(Page 217.) Hierarclnj of the priesthood. — Numa regulated the 
worship founded by Romulus, and designated the rank and func- 
tions of the priests. Thus, from the beginning there were priests 
attached to the general worship (ministri sacrorum), and others 
attached to the service of some particular deity. 

Numa instituted four colleges of priests : the Pontiffs, the Au- 
gurs and Aruspices, the Quindecemvirs, and the Septemvirs-Epiilon ; 
and three Flamines: the Flamine-Dial for Jupiter, the Flamine- 
Mariial for Mars, the Flamine-Quirinal for Quirinus or Romulus. 

Besides these four colleges and three Flamines, there were other 
corporations or individuals who filled very important sacred offices ; 
and finally, there was the college of Vestals, an institution of the 
remotest antiquity and the only college of priestesses in Rome. 

Such was the original organization of the hierarchy ; it was 
modified to meet the new exigencies arising from the mania of the 
Roman people for multiplying the number of their gods and their 
desire to people with them the capital of the world. This was 
carried to such an extent that the most shameful and ridiculous 
acts were presided over by some divinity. 

But a more curious historical fact, not so generally known, is the 
following : 

When a Roman general began the siege of a city, his first care 
was to invoke the protecting gods and goddesses of that city, con- 
juring them to pass into his camp, whence they would be con- 
ducted to Rome, where temples would be erected and festivals or 
games instituted in their honor. Moreover, and in order that no 
god should complain of being forgotten, a temple was erected in 
Rome, not as in Athens : To the unknown God — which was a 
supreme homage of philosophy to Him it foresaw but could not 


THE JEWS OF GAP ENA GATE. 36S 

understand — but to the unknown Gods, which was but a ridicu- 
lous testimonial of the singular religious mania of a people. 

More Flamines were appointed to meet the increase in religious 
services. Among the last created, and which could be selected 
from the ranks of the plebeians, were the GalUi, whom w'e have 
introduced in this narrative. 

{Page 219.) The ArcTiigallus’ house . — Those who have read Pc- 
tronius will recognize in oitr description of the residence of the 
Archigallus and the death of the sacred goose, an imitation of one 
of the episodes of the Satp'icon. 

(Page 237.) The Christian Notaries . — As early as in the first 
century, the great pontiff. Saint Clemens, wishing to preserve for 
the future ages the recital of the triumphs of the Martyrs, had in- 
stituted seven Notaries, whose duty was to collect and put in 
writing the circumstances accompanying the generous sacrifice of 
these champions of the Faith. Each of these Notaries had charge 
of two of the fourteen regions of Eome. — Dom Gueranger, vie de 
Sainte Cecile, page 148. — This is what has since been styled the 
Acts of the Martyrs, and continued by the care of the successors of 
Saint Clemens. It was this same pope, St. Clemens, who founded 
the Christian cemetery of the catacombs, since styled “ cemetery 
of Calixtus ” because it was much enlarged by the pope of that 
name. This burying-ground was situated precisely where we have 
located it in our story. The following passage leaves no doubt on 
this point: ‘‘ Facit (Calixtus) ccemeterium Via Appia, ubi multi 
sacerdotes et Martyres requiescunt, quod appcllaiur usque in hodier- 
num diem ccemeterium CallistV* (Anastas, in Calixto.) Dom 
Gueranger says about this passage, that Calixtus had simply en- 
larged the cemetery of the Appian Way. (Life of St. Cecilia.) 
Finally, in another place this learned author says, as we do, that 
the retreat of the first Christians and their bishops was in the shade 
of the sacred crypts of the Appian Way, near the tomb of the martyrs. 

(Page 257.) Punishment of the Vestals . — We have stated that 
the order of the Vestals existed eleven hundred years. During this 
long space of time, only t'wenty Vestals were convicted of having 
broken their vow of chastity. Thirteen of these twenty were buried 
alive ; the other seven perished in some other manner selected by 
themselves. Four Vestals were sentenced to death during Domi- 
tian’s reign : Varonilla and the two sisters Ocellates who stabbed 
themselves, and the Grand-Vestal Cornelia, whose execution was 
ordered with all the rigor of the ancient rites. 

(Page 274.) The good goddess . — It has never been ascertained 
who was the Good-Goddess or what were her mysteries. ^The^old 
writers designate her some times as Fauna, and at others Fatua, 


364 


AURELIA; OR, 


from ihe name of a cbaste matron, whose face no man ever saw 
while she lived. Hence, it is said, the Pioman matrons celebrated 
her feast in the night-time and in the absence of every male indi- 
vidual. (Alexander ab Alexandro, VI, 8.) Other authors contend 
that the Good- Goddess was Ops, Maia-Majesta, Cybele, Ceres, 
Venus-Cottyto, etc. JSTo man was permitted to know her name 
(Cic. de Arusp. resp. 17 ; Lactan. Divin. Inst. 1, 22) ; which ex- 
plains this uncertainty of the historians. 

(Page 296.) The punishment of Regulus. — Some of our readers 
may think that the pleasant punishment of tossing one in a blanket 
is of modern invention. Here is our authority for describing it as 
an ancient pastime : _ 

“To toss one, says Suetonius (m Othone, cap. 2,) is to make him 
spring up in the air by means of a blanket strongly distended. 
{Aliquem impositum cUsiento sago, in sublime jactare.'^) 

(Page 329.) The Grand VestaVs deliverance. — This fact, prop- 
erly studied, possesses the character of historical certainty, although 
it is naturally surrounded with mystery. The Christians concealed 
it carefully. This was necessary to avoid persecution and to pre- 
vent the victim from being recaptured and condemned anew. On 
the other hand, the pontiffs and Domitian were interested in con- 
cealing a deed which dealt a terrible blow to tlie vain terrors of an- 
cient superstition by proving that the gods were powerless to avenge 
such a great crime. 

It seems certain, however, that this deliverance did not remain a 
secret, and that when it was first known great efforts were made to 
discover the Grand Vestal. Dion Cassius and Pliny-the-Younger 
speak of events which occurred in Home after the double condem- 
nation of Metellus Celer and the Grand Vestal, which throw a 
strange light on this question. Both relate that, notwithstanding 
this condemnation, many persons implicated in the same accusation 
were prosecuted and cruelly tortured. What necessity was there 
to seek other accomplices, when Metellus Celer, the partner of Cor 
nclia’s alleged guilt, had perished in the Forum under the lash of 
the public executioner? Is it not likely that the Emperor wished, 
in the event of the Vestal again falling into his hands, to add to 
the solemnity of her execution by the torture of an accomplice? 

We are strengthened in this opinion by what Pliny-the* Younger 
says in his celebrated letter about the Grand Vestal Cornelia [Lib. 
IV, Epist. 11.) He repeats twice that Domitian trembled with rage 
at his helplessness to complete the crime and the uselessness of his 
efforts : Fremehai enhn Domiiianuti, eestuabaique ingenti invidia 
destiius. 


THE JEWS- OF CAP ENA GATE. 


365 


Domitian, while making every effort to procure another seducer, 
continued his investigations to find some trace of Cornelia. Having 
learned that an unknown woman was concealed in the house of a 
lawyer named Licinian, he sent immediately his agents to arrest 
her. - But she proved to be not Cornelia, but one of her freed- 
women. 

The people commenced murmuring and reproaching Domitian 
openly with his unjust and cruel persecutions. But he knew how 
to pacify the public mind by a seeming return to moderation. A 
secret emissary .was sent to Licinian to warn him that the only way 
to escape death by the lash in the Gomitiim was to confess the crime 
and sue for mercy. Licinian acted upon this suggestion, and charged 
Ilerennius Senecion with carrying to the Emperor the avowal of 
his pretended incest, which was done. Domitian was so well pleased 
that his joy betrayed him and made him exclaim: Licinian has 
fully absolved us. We must not, he added, jpr 655 too closely his 
discretion, and he contented himself with banishing the lawyer, 
permitting him to carry his valuables with him. After this, nothing 
more was said about Cornelia, unless Domitian found the means, as 
we have supposed, of causing her to be burnt alive with his grand- 
niece, Flavin, Domitilla, in a house in Terracina. 

Such are the facts gleaned from contemporary writers. If not 
absolutely certain, they are singular enough to open the way for 
suppositions. 

(Page 334.), Martyrdom of Saint Flavia Domitilla . — There is 
much uncertainty among the ecclesiastical writers concerning the 
precise date of the martyrdom of this saint. Some, according to 
the ads of St. Nereus and St. Achilleus, where she is mentioned as 
having been burnt alive at Terracina, place the event during Tra- 
jan’s persecution ; others place it in the year 96, and even in the 
year 95, which would correspond to Domitian’s persecution, for 
Trajan, the adopted son of Nerva, only ascended the throne on the 
27th of January, 849 (A. D. 98). It is known, moreover, that his 
first edict against the Christians was issued in A. D. 100. What 
likelihood is there that Trajan would have commenced the persecu- 
tion by burning alive in a house in Terracina one whom he must 
have respected in memory of Titus and Vespasian ? This secret 
and fearful mode of punishment was besides more in Domitian’s 
habits than in Trajan’s. It must be remembered, moreover, that 
Trajan’s persecution was developed in all its rigor only after his 
wars against the Dacians and Parthians, that is towards the years 
106 and 108. We believe therefore that the death of Saint Flavia 
Domitilla and Saints Nereus and Achilleus must have occurred in 
the year 96. 


366 AURELIA; OR, THE JEWS OF CAP ENA GATE. 

Page 342.) The death of Flavius Oleniens . — Dion Ccisr^ius says : 
“ In that same year, Domitian had put to death With many others, 
the consul Flavius Clemens, although the latter was his cousin and 
had for wife Fiavia Domitilla^ also his relation. They were con- 
victed of a sort of impiety peculiar to the Jews. These, in great 
number, bore the penalty of their impiety ; some having been con- 
demned to death and others to the loss of their property, Domi- 
tilla was merely banished.” — The Syncellum says expressly : This 
Clemens suffered death for Christ. Finally, in the beginning of 
the last century, the tomb of Clemens was discovered at Home, with 
an epitaph in which he is styled a martyr. 

(Page 344.) The causes of Domitian s murder-.— As the critics 
have remarked, Juvenab in the reflections with which he ends his 
fourth satyre, alludes evidently to the Christians and the persecu- 
tions they had suffered, as the cause of Domitian’s death ; 

Atque utinam his potius nugis tota ilia dodisset 
Tempora ssevitiee: claras quibus abstulit urbi. 

Illustresque animas impune, et vindiee nullo. 

Sed periit, postqnam cerdonibus esse timendus 
Cfeperat: hoc nocuit Lamiarum ca5de madenti. 

(Juvenal, Sat. IV, 1. 150 et segd 

Under the literal meaning of these lines, .we may find another. 
As long as Domitian wreaked his fury upon illustrious citizens like 
the Lamia, whose chief was put to death by his orders [Suet, in 
Domit. cap. 10), he was in no danger, for the people whom he had 
never threatened remained indifferent [Suet, ibid, cap. 23) ; but the 
case became different when he persecuted those who w’ere desig- 
nated in Rome by terms of contempt, [cerdones, people who fol- 
lowed the vilest trades.) There is little doubt that by these “ mean 
artisans ” in the minds of the Roman public, as in that of the poet, 
were meant the Christians, who, like the Jews, were subjected to 
all sorts of insults. This interpretation given to the passage quoted 
from Juvenal, by the most celebrated commentators, and among 
others, Baronins, would therefore mean that the harsh treatment of 
the Christians by Domitian had been the cause of his death ; the 
more so as his murderer, Stephanius, was the freedman of, Fiavia 
Domitilla, the wife of Flavius Clemens, whose family had particu- 
larly suffered in the persecution, and might have constituted him- 
self the avenger of his noble masters. Of course, the latter can- 
not be held responsible for a crime which they would have rejected 
with horror ; but we may draw this conclusion from the facts 
alluded to — that most probably our opinion as to the causes of the 
second persecution is correct. 





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